Candy Cane
by 00Tyler00
Summary: Red and white stripes...the crimson burn of past darkness against the brilliant ivory of an untainted future.
1. Chapter 1

_Merry Christmas, one and all!_

_I know I swore off DA fic, but the month of December has brought with it s**ome major upheaval in my family to which I'm needing to devote a considerable chunk of my time**. It's distressing, but **for personal reasons as well as practical ones**, **The Chronicles of Shado**w (my Tag series to Season One set to launch in December) **will have to be put on hold indefinitely**. It's not that I'm never planning on picking it up, but as I said, recent destabilizing events have shaken my muse as well as my schedule and **I wouldn't be able to devote sufficient time or mental resources to the project**. Very sorry for the news. _

_Having said that though, I can't leave off writing - it;s too therapeutic if nothing else :). So **I've been persuaded to recant my decision about DA fiction** (since I've already created the McDowell universe, it will be less work and difficulty for me to continue in that thread, if that makes any sense). Having said that, here's a short fic (it should be completed in a few chapters, but we'll see. You never know :P) for Christmas. **I will be continuing writing through the holidays** so if you're following this story, I suggest you turn on your Alert :D. MERRY CHRISTMAS, and in the words of Tiny Tim "God bless us, every one". _

**_-- Tyler_**

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_(Seven years after the events of 'How About No'...)**

Brac McDowell rounded the corner of the dark alleyway, his unnervingly attractive face set into a tight scowl of irritation as he did so. The shadows from the overhanging street lights cast a sullen orange hue across his tan leather jacket, and the oppressive damp of the air surrounding him caused Brac's livid breaths to puff out in toxic clouds before him.

The twenty year-old transgenic male – the son of 452 and 494 no less – clenched his jaw tighter as the queue came into sight. Shaking his head to clear some of the intoxication that a liter-bottle of Tequila had ignited, Brac swallowed back his bile at the sight of the overhead blinking nightclub lights.

He paused and blew out a breath of complete disbelief at the advertisement prominently displayed in the window.

"I'm gonna kill her."

The words were whispered between grit teeth, but emphatic enough to rankle a group of skinheads queuing in line as Brac pushed past them without so much as an 'excuse me'.

"Oi!"

Brac ignored the angry demand belted out in Cockney English, but it was more difficult to turn a blind eye as the aggrieved metal-head snagged his bicep and whirled the youth around to face him.

"Before you traipse in there to commit homicide, matey," The bleach-blond older man with a face full of holes and a mouth chock with metal teeth sneered, "are you planning on waiting your ruddy turn?"

Brac's lips twisted and he wrenched his arm free pointedly as he held the man's eyes with his own before heading into the club.

Eddie scoffed as he watched Brac breeze past the bouncers without so much as an ID verification. He turned to his compadres with a huff of disbelief as they eyed him intently, "Boy must have some kinda crooked deal with the doormen." He rolled his eyes and tucked his hands into his trench-coat pocket, "I don't even wanna know."

The heavy odor of alcohol mingled with cigarette smoke worked in sync with the flashing strobe lights to give The Viper Nightclub a malevolent appeal. Packed to the brim with late-night revelers and heavily managed by a well-built security detail, the joint was rapidly becoming one of Seattle's most famous strip clubs.

The scantily-clad women cavorting on various forms of stages (and cages) throughout the large club all paid homage to a glittering center stage whereon danced only The Viper's finest. Jimmy Reeco, the club's owner, welcomed all manner of clientele into his establishment, but as far as his women went, they had to manifest exceptional talent and sex appeal to be granted a spot on center stage.

Alec had once described the club as 'sort of like a circus rink…just with totally hot, semi-naked chicks instead of monkeys on bicycles'.

Brac's lips tightened and he ignored the hundreds of female (and male) eyes pinning him with interest as he stalked swiftly through the club, shrugging off a hand that clamped onto his shoulder in the process.

"Hey! Brac!"

He growled impatiently, glancing over the milling throng to get a better glimpse at the centre stage.

No sign of her yet…

"What?" He demanded after hearing his name another time, turning to frown acidly at the shorter, stocky man standing directly behind him.

"Don't 'what' me!" The Caribbean-looking man, averaging ten years older then Brac, laughes triumphantly as he clapped him on the back, "Never thought I'd see the day! What you doin' in a strip club, man? Thought Sherrie didn't let ya out here no more!"

"Yeah well I'm on a mission." Brac growled, eyes still pinned to the stage as his workmate raised his eyebrows in surprise and slipped a beer into his hand.

"Oh yeah? And that is what, to get laid sometime this month?"

Brac's green eyes rolled full circle.

"Sherrie's Presbyterian, Phil, not freaking Amish."

"Right so what you want in here then, man?" 'Phil' narrowed his eyes in confusion as Brac gulped back his beer and squared his shoulders grimly.

"Got a heads-up on a performance here tonight."

"Right on, man!" Phil raised his hand in a hi-five gesture, "The poster's been up for a week now! Gonna have some live transgenic action right here in The Viper. No other club to date, man, no other club…"

"That so." It was more of a statement then a question. Brac's jaw was set and his hand gripped his beer bottle hard enough to turn knuckle-flesh white.

Phil lowered his hand dismally and then narrowed his eyes in confusion, "Dude, you got pupils the size o' Texas. You revved or somethin'?"

"No." Brac replied in the painfully dry tone of voice he adopted when using hardcore sarcasm.

Phil shrugged, but his elation soon won over as a voice began to boom on the overhead speakers. "She's comin' out!"

"See you 'round, Phil." Brac's eyes were now completely glued to the stage as he handed his workmate the unfinished beer. He pressed his way through the crowd desperately pushing to and fro around the elevated platform, stone determination in his bright green eyes which offset any retaliation from the myriad of revved-up people Brac shoved his way past.

Tantalizing drum and bass began to throb through the club and the disco balls above the stage swirled into action.

Brac held his breath, teeth grit tightly against each other through pursed lips, and waited.

The curtains flung apart and onto the stage strutted a young woman clad in a cliché leather suit which the lean curves of her amazing body transformed into dazzling apparel. Her harsh dark eye-shadow and pale shade of lipstick worked with her scorching brown eyes and full lips to achieve perfection. The muted roundness of her face suggested she was barely on the cusp of exiting her teens….

…Though nobody seemed to notice – and if they did, once the girl began her dance, they ceased to care.

Her routine was flamboyant and unabashed in its promiscuity – the way her hands explored her body with silent satisfaction and the veracity with which she attacked the pole. It took the word 'exotic dancing' to a whole new level. Most of the crowd hung upon her every move – some grimaced in what might have been disgust at the girl's brazen performance in light of her obvious youth and innocence.

Others – like Brac McDowell for example – merely watched, stock-still, eyes vacant and jaw clenched.

Gradually, the girl moved closer to the edge of the stage, pausing to sink her hips low and roll her ribcage full-circle as the 100-dollar bills were stuffed into the garter of her stockings, the V-neck of her cleavage, the rim of her boots…

She jumped ever so slightly as a hand gripped her wrist in a tight vice-hold. Turning with an air of poorly-concealed discomfort, the young girl's eyes widened in disbelief as she took in the features of the young man holding her wrist.

"What the hell…" She whispered in a barely audible tone, her eyebrow narrowing in alarm, anger and embarrassment all at once as he pulled her arm to make her eyes meet his.

"I'll be outside the dressing room. You have _seven_ minutes." Brac's tone left absolutely no room for argument – nor did the steel in his face.

"I'm working!" She hissed in what was evidently meant to be defiance, although they both knew it came out as more of a protesting whine.

"Just the stage or the streets as well?" Brac raised an eyebrow sardonically, and the girl's mouth opened then shut as she scowled at him. Brac rolled his eyes in disgust, released her wrist and turned his back on the conversation.

Ten minutes came and went, creeping by for the incensed Brac and rushing past for the flushing young girl who stormed out of the backstage changing room, wrapped in a black suede trench-coat and clutching an incriminating plastic bag.

"What was so damn important you had to pull me off stage?" She snapped the moment she and Brac were face-to-face. He responded with icy silence and a hand clamping around her bicep as he steered her through the staff corridors.

"Brac! Damn it, will you at least explain what you're so freaking pissed about?" At those demanding words, Brac let out an ironic laugh and glanced at the ceiling in disbelief, "No! Do _not_ laugh at me! You know how many strings I had to pull to get a slot on that stage?"

"Not as many as you had to pull to get the fake ID, I'm sure!" Brac snapped as they reached a Fire Exit door which led into the dingy alleyway behind The Viper. "Or tell me, did Reeco just conveniently decide to waive the fact you were under twenty-one cuz you gave such peachy head?"

"You're sick! I wouldn't do that!" The girl protested adamantly as they walked briskly down the dimly-lit lane, stepping over bags of garbage and empty bottles in the process.

"Yeah there're a lotta things 'you wouldn't do', Nyxie." Brac retorted, "Like convincing Mom and Dad to let you leave home cuz you 'wanna study biochemistry' at Seattle Community College…"

Nyx's dark eyes flashed, "I _am_…"

"Tellin'em you'll 'stay on campus' and 'maintain anonymity'." Brac seemed to find that one particularly rankling as he continued, forcing Nyx to keep step with him as they exited the side-street, "Feeding them a bunch of crap about how you don't want your college fund cuz 'you have to do one thing on your own'!"

"None of that's a lie!" Nyx finally yelled in frustration, wrenching her arm away from Brac with some force and returning the heated glare he sent her with one of her own as they ground to a halt, "I _am_ studying biochemistry at SCC _and_," She raised her eyebrows, "I'm doing it with my own money, which is more then I can say for you!"

"The hell are you on about? You don't even know…" Brac began with a scoff as he dug his hands into his pockets.

"I _know_ you dropped out of college almost a month ago and you didn't tell Mom and Dad!" Nyx raised an eyebrow irately as she counted out on her fingers, "I know you quit that part-time job at the Marriot and now you're getting into dealing…"

"Oh for god's sake…"

"You _are_!" Nyx hissed, "And don't even try to deny it! Okay? Cuz my friend Stacey is a hardcore coke addict and she said the guy who lines her up got a new supplier who's apparently transgenic! You fit the fucking profile, Brac – so suck it up!"

He smiled tightly, a dangerous grin that heralded doom, "My, my. Aren't we a sharp little tool tonight?"

Nyx huffed and crossed her arms, "Whatever. And to top it off, you're back on coke yourself and a frigging wino to boot. So don't lecture me about skeletons in the closet, alright, cuz it ain't gonna fly!"

"Hey, Colden!" The angry bark sounded from the far end of the alley they'd just exited. Nyx and Brac glanced up from their quarreling long enough to watch as three heavy-set men stalked determinedly towards them.

"Reeco wants you back in the club and on stage in five minutes or you're flatlined!"

Nyx shook her head hopelessly as Brac's hand gripped her coat shoulder and she was moved behind her brother with the necessary force such an action took.

"She's already 'flatlined', asshole, now beat it!" Brac replied purposefully as the bouncers approached, and Nyx opened her mouth only to be silenced by a finger held up over her older brother's shoulder.

"Some things never change." Nyx muttered with the full indignation of her eighteen years as Brac relinquished his hold on her coat only to shove her in the direction of the High Street.

"Take my bike – it's around the corner. Go home, I'll talk to you tomorrow."

"You're out of your mind! There's three of them built like freaking oxen!" Nyx protested stubbornly, shifting her gaze from Brac's insistent glare to eye the strongmen critically.

"And I'm genetically-empowered, remember?" Brac waved a set of fingers in her direction with a cocky grin, at which Nyx seethed and her face pinched into a fierce scowl.

"And freaking drunk and high off your head!"

"Am not!" Brac argued with a little less candor then he would have liked.

"Hey! Was I talking to you, asshole?" The bouncers had reached them by now, and the largest of the three invaded Brac's personal space (never a good idea).

"_I_ was talking to _you_." Brac corrected tersely in a low voice as a dangerous grin crept across his face, "Though I'm not quite sure you heard me well enough. _She's going home_." He enunciated the last sentence as the smirk disappeared.

"The hell she is. You got a contract, missy!" The bouncer stabbed a finger at Nyx, who glared at him and shifted nervously on her feet, fists clenched by her side in anticipation of the anarchy that was about to ensue.

"Screw the contract!" Brac huffed, and the man narrowed his eyes, stepping another two inches closer.

"You wanna slice o' that ass? You get in line and wait for it like every other freaking perv around!"

"Fuck you, Waldo!" Nyx scoffed sardonically with an evil scowl, stepping forward only to have Brac hold up a hand over his shoulder.

"Chill out, Nyxie. I got this one."

"My ass 'you got this one'!" The second bouncer hissed as he and his friend sandwiched their comrade emphatically, "You skinny white boys are always so cocky till your lip gets fat!"

"Ooh fatter then yours?" Brac grimaced and shook his head, "I doubt that's gonna happen."

"Brac, leave it! Let's just go, come on!" Nyx stomped her foot for emphasis and glanced nervously around the alley.

"You ain't goin' nowhere, Colden!" The head bouncer started forward only to have his collar snagged and be tossed back the few feet of concrete he'd just covered.

"Yo what the _fuck_!" He yelled angrily, and Brac aimed a finger pointedly in his direction as he leant forward and eyed the man coldly.

"I'm gonna say this _once_. You keep the fuck away from my sister. You don't _look_ at her, you don't _talk_ to her, you most _definitely_ don't fucking touch her, you understand me?"

"Fuck you!" The bouncer spat, starting forward only to have his friend grab his arm.

"Whoa, whoa Waldo! He's her bro, man, and Colden's a fucking trannie, remember?"

"So who _gives_ a shit?" Waldo struggled against the concerted effort of his workmate to keep him at bay as Brac's cold grin returned to streak his face.

"Look there's two of'em, man. Just let it go!" The somewhat more sensible bouncer insisted as Waldo scowled viciously at Brac and Nyx, both of whom were rigid and waiting for the outcome of the struggle.

"Fuck that!" Waldo shook loose of his friend and charged Brac, giant fists swinging. One minute Brac was there, in the line of fire, the next he was gone, a blur of movement sweeping under the swipe of Waldo's fists and behind the man.

Waldo felt an elbow strike the pressure point in the side of his neck with sickening force and tumbled to the ground, his balance askew and his head reeling. Brac was already greeting the onslaught from the other two bouncers as they charged him in unison, ducking under some swings, meeting others head-on and landing several well-placed jabs of his own.

Waldo shook the dots away from his eyes as he climbed dizzily to his feet and made a lunge for Brac, only to be stopped in his tracks as Nyx's fist collided with his nose.

"Bitch!" Waldo cursed, slugging out an arm with such force that even Nyx's hasty block didn't fully cushion the impact. Her head swiped to the side but she was quick to retaliate with a flurry of attacks from both her fists and her feet.

Nyx and Brac's styles of combat were as different as their parents' – with Nyx following Max in her longer, more drawn-out but less damaging form of hand-to-hand, while Brac took after Alec in his quick-and-easy fixes which incapacitated his attacker a good deal faster but could also prove fatal if not executed with precise control.

For the most part, twenty years of training and discipline had taught Brac said finesse with polished grace…but the amount of alcohol (and, Nyx suspected, drugs) in his system was dulling his reflexes – and his self-control.

Nyx watched as one of the men attacking Brac fell limply to the curb after a kick to the head from her brother's steel-toed boot, skull cracking against the sidewalk as blood began to seep from the wound.

"Hey Vinny, you alright?" The third bouncer's face flickered briefly with concern as he and Brac paused in their skirmish to eye the motionless body on the ground.

"You fucking asshole!" The man's face deepened its shade of red and Brac had no time to react before he was pulling out a switchblade and lunging to attack once more.

"Shit," Nyx whispered in alarm, but her focus was returned to Waldo as the man recovered from the latest set of hooks Nyx had laid into him and charged her full-on. Nyx was slammed to the ground, all of Waldo's 150 kilo weight pinning her beneath him as he slammed her wrists down against the icy pavement.

"Not so tough now, are ya, bitch?" He hissed, blood pouring from his broken nose and dripping onto Nyx's coat. She squirmed under his crushing weight and tried in vain to free her hands or take control with her legs, but Waldo was bigger then anyone Nyx had ever sparred with and the small-boned girl found herself helplessly trapped.

"Make you a deal, Waldo! Get the fuck off me _now_ and I'll make sure my brother doesn't _kill_ you once he's finished with your friends!" Nyx ordered between grit teeth, leaning up just far enough to be able to glare mordantly at Waldo, who cracked a toothy grin.

"Not on your life, sweetie." He removed his hand from Nyx's wrist long enough to backhand her sharply and send her head snapping to the side. "That's for my nose, you skanky white hoe!"

"Brac, look out!" Nyx yelled a warning as her brother's head turned quickly at the words yelled out by Waldo. His opponent seized the advantage and lunged, slashing the knife at Brac's throat and missing as Brac clumsily jerked back. The bouncer didn't miss a beat as he followed the swing of his hand into an undercut that plunged the knife into Brac's side.

"_Brac_!" Nyx's voice filled with panic as her brother doubled over but threw an uppercut into his opponents face, sending the man stumbling backwards. Brac's stance heavily favored his injured right side and the fist he held at the ready hovered protectively over the spot , but Brac's other fist was clenched close to his chin as his eyes, bleary and dangerous, stared down the bouncer.

"Get him, Blake!" Waldo encouraged acidly, still pinning Nyx relentlessly to the freezing ground as he watched the young, lean transgenic and the older, heavyset Ordinary circle each other slowly.

'Blake' was blinking heavily and seemed to be swaying slightly in his stance, the multiple kicks and slams that Brac had aimed at his skull over the course of the fight finally beginning to take effect. He seemed somewhat shaken at the strong confidence oozing from Brac after he had just stabbed the kid in the gut, and was apparently weighing up his options as he hesitated.

"Bring it on, bitch." Brac shrugged his head and smiled acidly, blood seeping from a crack in his lip and tinting his otherwise pearly teeth an ominous shade of red.

Blake pulled in his lips and his eyes darted from side to side before his eyes narrowed and he charged Brac once more, knife sweeping in a figure-of-eight as Brac alternately dodged and repelled as many attacks as he could, although Nyx saw at least one get through and meet its target.

Nyx bit back a groan of disgust from her position under Waldo as the man turned his attention back to her, and then her eyes widened as she felt something begin to stiffen against her leg.

"Looks like Big Brother ain't gonna be comin' to the rescue anytime soon, Colden." Waldo smirked as he adjusted his straddle of Nyx and moved his hips further down her legs, causing her to struggle viciously and inhale sharply.

"I'm sure Reeco won't mind if I toy around with his merchandise a lil'." He swiped up both of Nyx's hands in one of his own giant mitts. "I'm not exactly worried about poppin' any cherries. Reeco likes his meat pre-cooked."

Nyx's eyes switch from wide and terrified to wide and relieved as Waldo was grabbed from behind and hauled off her before he even knew what hit him.

She pushed herself up onto her palms and watched, stunned as none other then Jace proceeded to beat the shit out of Waldo, smashing his fists into the man's face repeatedly before slamming the huge man against the wall as though he weighed no more then Nyx.

"You and your friends," Jace raised his eyebrows as Waldo's head dipped in a semi-conscious stupor, "had better pass something on to Reeco for me. You mess with these kids again, you're dead meat. Understand that?"

Jace didn't wait to respond as he dropped Waldo and stepped back in grim disgust as the man rolled onto his stomach and moaned before passing out.

"Jace!" Nyx's eyes flooded with tears as the X5 helped her quickly to her feet and checked her for injuries. "Wha…what are you doing here? How did you know we were…"

"We were in the neighborhood. Let me see your face." Jace instructed shortly as he tilted Nyx's chin up and to the side to get a better look at the ugly bruise beginning to taint her otherwise flawless complexion. "Great."

"Brac?"

Nyx's head shot up and she watched as Tank, who had apparently just taken out Brac's attacker, gripped Brac's shoulders and ducked his head to meet Brac's own as her brother hunched over, clutching his ribcage in a way Nyx didn't like at all.

"Look at me. What happened?" Tank demanded, and Brac inhaled and exhaled in deep, heaving breaths to stave off pain as he shook his head and mumbled something incoherently.

"You're bleeding." Tank noted as he caught sight of a trickle of crimson winding its way out from the fold of Brac's jacket, "Were you stabbed?"

"Switchblade." Brac muttered, the initial adrenalin surge which had powered him now fading fast as his body began to succumb to the large amount of intoxicants in his system.

"Let me see." Tank ordered, hooking an arm under Brac's to support him as he gently but firmly moved Brac's arm away from his side and pulled aside his jacket. The black over-shirt Brac was wearing was wet and sticky with a dark substance around his lower right ribcage, and Tank's lips twisted as he lifted up the shirt to see Brac's white tank top seeping through with blood in more then one place.

"Fuck." He whispered, and then nodded at Jace who was hovering anxiously, Nyx by his side, at the scene.

"He needs a doctor." Tank informed them with a calmness none of them felt, as he slung Brac's arm over his shoulder and helped the inebriated young man along. "So does that one on the curb with the puddle of blood around his skull."

"I'll take care of them." Jace responded with a motion of his head towards the fallen bouncers, "You got these guys? Nearest hospital's a block away."

"Over and out." Tank waved two fingers at his pal before nodding at Nyx, "Get us a taxi, will you?"

"I don't get it. What were you guys doing out here?" Nyx seemed less then satisfied with Jace's previous answer to the loaded question as they took off down the alleyway. Suddenly she growled and cast Tank a vicious sideways scowl, "You're shitting me."

Tank ignored Nyx's glower as they made it to the main road and she flagged down a taxi before turning to face the X5.

"You were tailing us, weren't you?"

"Don't flatter yourself…" Tank rolled his eyes with a grin as he shook his head, but Nyx continued, undeterred.

"No! Don't bullshit me, Tanker. Mom and Dad are having us _watched_, aren't they? I can't believe it! After _all_ this time, they _still_ don't trust us!" She raised her voice in angry disbelief, running a hand through her hair and holding the taxi door open as Tank bundled Brac into the back seat.

"Oh yeah, cuz they have _no_ reason to be cagey after what shining examples of trustworthiness _you_ two idiots have been!" Tank retorted mercilessly, as he unzipped his jacket and tore a shred off the corner of his shirt, stuffing it into a ball and shaking Brac's shoulder.

"Brac? I need you to hold this against your wound, okay? Lay on the pressure, man, don't worry about it. It's gonna be fine."

"Tank?" Brac's eyes narrowed in confusion as he squinted at the man and didn't take the rag.

"What the hell…" Tank cupped Brac's chin in his hand and leant into the car to peer at his bloodshot, dilated eyes. "Are you _high_?"

Brac grinned stupidly in response and Tank rolled his eyes.

"Fucking great." He sighed and shoved the rag into Brac's hand, placing it against his wound and giving Brac's shoulder another shake.

"That stays there, understand?"

"Aye, aye, Cap'n." Brac saluted the X5 and Tank resisted the urge to smack the youth upside the head.

"You McDowells – there's always some kinda freaking drama going on. And _you_," Tank raise his eyebrows at Brac matter-of-factly, "are usually smack in the middle of it!"

Brac laughed giddily as he rested his head against the seat and closed his eyes, "Tanker, if you wanna bust someone's chops about _hogging the center stage_, you should really talk to _Nyxie_!"

Nyx shot her brother a nasty grimace at that one as she climbed into the back seat beside him and Tanker shut the door behind them before taking up residence in the shotgun seat.

"Nearest hospital, fast as you can." He informed the driver, who raised his eyebrows condemningly but said nothing as he pulled onto the road.


	2. Chapter 2

_Here's chapter 2. Thank you to everyone who has reviewed so far. You're the reason I'm still writing. Hope you had a wonderful Christmas and that you're all taking it VERY easy up till New Years. Enjoy the story and please continue to review and comment. Feedback is like chocolate blah blah blah...:P. _

_Yeah, yeah. You know it, baby.  
_

**_--Tyler_**

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Nyx sighed and propped herself up against the knuckles of her fist, pursing her lips dismally and glancing up at Tank as the man conversed with the white-coated doctor standing a ways off.

The sparkling lights dotting the lean hospital Christmas tree opposite her worked rhythmically to lull Nyx into a hypnotic state of moroseness.

_Merry fucking Christmas_, She blinked back a frustrated tear and sighed heavily once more, sitting up straight as Tank shook hands with the doctor and approached the young girl.

"So?" Nyx's brow furrowed up as Tank moved to sit beside her, "How's Brac doing?"

"Well," Tank spread his hands with a shrug as he bumped shoulders consolingly with Nyx, "he had multiple stab wounds, but thankfully only one of them was serious. They cleaned him up, gave him fifteen stitches…"

"Fifteen?" Nyx's mouth curled incredulously, and Tank rolled his eyes briefly.

"Tell me about it. Drag wounds – nasty sons of bitches. Anyway," Tank slapped his hands together and squeezed Nyx's knee reassuringly as her face clouded over further, "He's pulling through alright. Don't sweat it. They're keeping him overnight just as a precaution, and they'll let him out in the morning."

Nyx breathed out and her head dipped into her hands, "Thank god."

"Yeah." Tank rejoined grimly, his face and tone suddenly hardening slightly and going quieter, "'Cept of course they had some questions about the inordinate amount of toxins in his blood stream and the drugs in his system."

Nyx's eyes lowered and she flicked her tongue over her faded lipstick before her teeth clamped down on her lip for a minute.

"What's goin' on with you guys, Nyx?" Tank queried, his voice thin with an attempt at padding the obvious disappoint (and even disgust) emanating from his eyes.

Nyx shook her head, hands twisting together in her lap.

"Are you gonna call my parents?" She asked in a low, almost husky voice thick with something akin to trepidation.

"Don't need to." Tank replied, running his hand over his freshly-buzzed head. "Word'll have spread like wildfire." He turned his blue eyes on Nyx with a matter-of-fact raise of his eyebrow, "Your parents are likely already on their way."

"Great." Nyx closed her eyes and rubbed her forehead, pursing her lips and staring at the Christmas tree once more. "So how long you been tailing us?"

"Long enough." Was Tank's discomfiting reply as he tucked his hands into his jacket pocket and slouched into the seat.

Nyx scoffed and scraped her bangs away from her face, "Whatever. It's not like Mom and Dad have a glowing record prior to the TC-era anyway."

"That's a moot point." Tank reminded her duly, stretching out his limbs and crossing his boots at the ankle, "Your mom and dad had a completely different upbringing from you and Brac. We were raised to look at everything in shades of black and white – Lydecker and co's POV in other words. Once there was no more Mother Manticore telling us what to do and how to do it, we floundered like a pack of baby ducks with no-one to teach us how to swim."

"Yeah and spending your formative years behind the chicken wire of a separate civilization equivalent to the _Gaza Strip_ is such a head start in life!" Nyx snapped in response, prompting Tank to let out a loud laugh of disbelief.

"What?" Nyx raised her eyebrows and twisted to face Tank, who shook his head with a broad, sardonic smile and folded his hands behind his head.

"Ah Nyxie." He closed his eyes, "So much like your mother." After a moment, his eyes cracked open and caught Nyx's curiously, "Just out of curiosity, why didn't you tell your parents Brac dropped out and quit his job?"

She raised an eyebrow in Max's token 'you've gotta be kidding me' manner. "Because if I ratted, he would spill all his shit on me. Tit for tat, that's how it's always worked with me and Brac."

Tank rolled his eyes, "Pack of five year-olds, the whole damn lot of you."

Nyx squinted as she leant forward and scratched through the tangled mess of her hair to her scalp, "Funny. I thought you and my parents always got on so freaking well – or have the last four months seen a rapid increase in lover's tiffs?"

Tank just smiled at that question, which prompted a worried frown from Nyx that she carefully hid in a grimace as her fingertips connected with the tender bruise discoloring the side of her face.

Tank noticed and brushed aside her thick, silky hair, wincing at the bruise. "You should get that looked at."

"It's a bruise, Tanker. What're they gonna do, put Dove Smooth and Silky on it and hope it goes away?" Nyx sighed and then nodded at the scar streaking down the left line of his jaw. "That's new, isn't it? What happened?"

He smiled again, only this time it was more poignant then all-knowing. "Had a run-in with a pack of local dealers goin' after Brac cuz he was two weeks late on a pay-out."

Nyx's eyebrows flickered and her jaw set with worry, "He's in a real bad way, Tank." She pulled out a bobby-pin clinging stubbornly to a strand of her messy hair and twirled it absently in front of her face, "Gets broody every Christmas – I mean, you know Brac, right?"

"But not like this?" Tank suggested, and Nyx shook her head grimly.

"You know he's got a girlfriend – Sherrie, right?"

Tank's lips twisted, "More like a live-in fuck-buddy mooching off his stash."

"You don't like her."

"Not even a little bit." Tank rubbed his jaw and sighed deeply before twisting to fully face the small girl beside him, "Look, Nyxie…"

"It's Nyx." She grinned belligerently and he blinked the attempt away.

"Brac's not just in a 'real bad way'."

Nyx stiffened and her spine straightened, fingers abandoning the bobby-pin in favor of gripping the edges of her seat. "What do you mean?"

"He's also in a 'hell of a lot of trouble'." Tank clasped his hands together, eyes filled with sincere concern as he nodded towards the room where Brac was being treated, "He's dug himself in real deep real fast with the drug world in Seattle. Got people who wanna kill him for other reasons then the fact he's Brac McDowell. You know what I'm saying?"

"He's using, Tank." Nyx's voice, quiet and hard as it was, quivered ever so slightly with fear as she shifted in her seat, and beside her, the well-built X5 nodded.

"Not only that. I just got wind of a rumor he's been footsying around with an old and very mutual acquaintance."

Nyx frowned in confusion, "Who?"

Tank opened his mouth to respond but a call resonating from down the hall made them both turn.

* * *

Nyx rose to her feet, hands cradling her biceps, sheer obstinacy written all over her face as Max and Alec approached the pair.

Tank's lips thinned into a line and he was hardly surprised (as well as hardly unmoved) when the first thing Nyx did the moment her parents came into arm's reach was melt the frosty layer and barrel into Alec's arms – at the very same moment the X5 held them out for her.

"Hey…" Alec soothed as his eighteen year-old daughter fought off tears, wrapping his arms tightly around Nyx's thin shoulders and resting his chin atop her hair as was his customary form of comfort. "You okay?" He stood back after a minute, keeping a grip on her shoulders and tilting up her face to get a better look at the damage.

"Those motherfucking…"

"_Alec_, not right now." Max raised her eyebrows before turning to Tank, "Where's Brac? Is he okay?"

"Got a couple stitches and the makings of a pissy hangover, but other then that, he'll be out tomorrow morning." Tank reassured Max, and both she and Alec relaxed visibly at the news.

"Eeyeah but…" Tank scratched the back of his neck awkwardly, "We need to have ourselves a little talk."

"Can't it wait till we see Brac?" Alec queried with a sour face which suggested he was in no mood to have his reunion with his injured son spoiled by Tank 'tattling' on Brac's many unknown misdeeds.

One of Tank's eyebrows arched skeptically, prompting Alec to roll his eyes and adopt his classic petulant tone and expression.

"Oh come on, Tanker. Give a guy a break here!"

"Alec," Max groaned in resignation, "Let's at least hear him out. He did get the kids outta a tight spot, you gotta give him that."

Alec's eyes half-closed as he gave Max a deadpan, 'I-don't-have-to-give-him-anything' stubborn frown, to which Max in turn responded with her wide-eyed, tight-lipped, 'do-it-or-I'll-kick-your-ass' face.

"Fine." Alec ceded, one arm still slung protectively around Nyx's shoulders even as the girl regained her rigid composure. "The _short_ version, Tank," Alec smiled acidly and Tank returned the snide gesture, "if you wouldn't mind."

"Okay, you three." Nyx's eyebrows shot up as she glanced dubiously from Alec to Max, "Look, there's a lot of stuff you guys..."

"Weren't exactly clued in on?" Max raised an eyebrow, and a flash of coldness emboldened her otherwise soft features before she shook her head at Nyx's eye-roll.

"Just…don't take everything Tank says at face-value, alright? Cuz he doesn't know the whole picture…"

"Yeah well don't worry. Between the five of us I'm sure we'll manage to come up with a story everybody's happy with." Alec rejoined sarcastically with a slight grin that was anything but reassuring, "Unless of course _Reeco_ still has me on his speed-dial, in which case we'll have to re-assess."

Nyx raised her eyebrows, "You have _Reeco_ on your _speed dial_?"

"_Reeco_ has your dad on _his_." Max corrected, her voice tainted ever so slightly with displeasure at the concept, and Alec huffed out a sigh.

"Max, it was like _twenty_ years ago. I dunno _why_ you still have to get so catty about it!"

"Reeco's been one of Seattle major drug lords for thirty-five years." Nyx changed the subject quickly as Max opened her mouth to retort, "Whatever shit Brac's knee-deep in, it's about to get a helluva lot worse if he took out any of Reeco's pet 'bouncers'."

"Speaking of Reeco," Tank addressed the three, "there's a little problem."

"Trust me, Tanker – with _Reeco_," Alec pronounced the name in a thick Russian accent that was a perfect parrot of the drug lord, "there's no such thing as a 'little problem'."

Max smiled with wide, sarcastic eyes as she cast a sly glance at Alec, "Or if there _is_, it usually ends with his henchmen putting a bullet in your hand, head or foot!"

Alec grinned to reveal gritted teeth and avoided his mate's condemning gaze, "Max, when this over, I swear I'm gonna kick your…"

"Guys!" Nyx hissed, "Pay attention!"

"I'm listening!" Alec responded petulantly as he crossed his arms and shot his daughter a glare.

"Well I hope so, cuz this is important stuff and I doubt we'll get another chance to talk about once Brac's up and about." Tank leant back against the wall and dug his hands into his pocket as Max raised an eyebrow at him. "As I was saying: Brac's been dealing for about three months now…"

"Four." Nyx corrected briskly, and all three X5s turned to cast her veiled, unreadable glances. She shrugged and maintained eye contact with Tank, "He started taking coke again like a month after he moved outta TC," Nyx tried not to noticed the way Alec shook his head and looked away in disbelief, "then he was rubbing shoulders with some of the major suppliers for three weeks after that."

"When'd he get into dealing?" Max queried, and Nyx's lips pressed together before she spoke.

"Just…got in with the right crowd and lined himself up a sweet deal. Started supplying for a few of the clubs and now he deals for two thirds of Seattle's nightspots." Nyx ran a finger through a tangle at the bottom of her hair and sighed, "You know Brac. He does something, he does it all the way."

"All nose-diving with that boy, no freaking brakes on him." Alec muttered the words almost inaudibly as he rubbed his forehead and let out a sigh akin to Nyx's.

"It gets worse." Tank warned, nodding at Nyx to indicate his thanks for the fill-in before he continued, "Two weeks ago Brac got a contract with a chain of major clubs who wanted a supplier that was willing to deal nationally. Reeco had been trying to get this contract for _years_."

"I think we all know where _this_ is going." Nyx folded her arms and picked at her chipped nailpolish as Tank carried on.

"Reeco didn't go for the locking-horns approach initially. He met with Brac and offered him a partnership – Brac turned it down."

"Typical." Max growled, "So now Reeco's all up in arms to kill Brac's ass, am I right?"

"No, no, see, Reeco doesn't kill his rivals." Alec stated mock-reassuringly, "He just maims them and leaves them bleeding in his basement."

"Dad, please! Don't be gross!" Nyx cringed.

"Sorry, just thought the situation needed a lil' more angst and _grit_ then it already has." Alec responded flatly, and Tank groaned.

"Look, basically this is what's been going on." Nyx informed the gang, "Brac was running circles around Reeco's attempts to take him out until a month ago when Sherrie entered the picture."

"Sherrie?" Max raised her eyebrows.

"He's calling her his girlfriend." Nyx responded wryly, "Shaggy peroxide hair, bone-thin and a crack-whore to boot."

"Seriously?" Alec's brow crinkled incredulously, and Nyx nodded. "Huh."

"I know – not exactly Brac's finest pick. Anyway, they're sharing an apartment and Brac thinks she's all that – probably because Sherrie like rum and 'coke' as much as he does."

"Sorry, I'm lost; where's the skanky girlfriend fit into the picture?" Max sounded revolted and like she wanted to move on from the topic as soon as possible.

"It happens that Sherrie works at The Viper, Reeco's club of residence, and is actually his _niece_ – go figure." Nyx narrowed her eyes and from the tone in her voice, it was clear she bore 'Sherrie' nothing but malicious ill-will.

"And his mole, I'm sure." Alec ran a hand through his hair and rolled his eyes, "Well this is bloody peachy."

"Tell me about it." Nyx tucked her hair behind her ears and scowled at a mental image of her brother (or Sherrie, or Reeco, or possible all three). "So I wanted scoop on what Reeco was actually up to with Sherrie keeping Brac between her legs…"

"Nyx, please!" Alec grimaced, "Don't be gross!"

"Alec, shut up." Max squelched the sarcasm in the bud as Nyx rolled her eyes at her father and continued.

"Anyhow, no way was I getting any info. Reeco keeps his connections on a tight leash and his acquaintances on an even shorter one. I cajoled, I offered bribes, I threatened," She smirked slightly, "Apparently no-one considered me scarier then Reeco."

"I wonder why." Alec grinned with just a hint of patronization in his tone, at which Nyx scowled, "So that's why you were working at The Viper?"

Nyx nodded, "Don't get me wrong, it wasn't my first choice, but it was the only option left if I still wanted inside scoop on Reeco. I auditioned for a job and luckily enough, Reeco himself happened to be around. Guess he liked what he saw, cuz he cozied up to me after that…"

"He cozied up to you'? The fuck does _that_ mean?" Alec demanded in a deadpan voice which suggested he was vehemently repulsed by the suggestion.

"Relax, Dad." Nyx soothed, eyes squinting slightly as though she was trying to remain un-offended by the insinuation, "He just made sure I got invites to all the backstage parties and cushy cocktail events with his clientele. It's like pulling teeth, but I've been working on getting scoop about Brac and trust me – it ain't pretty."

"Oh Reeco'll want his head in a bag and his hide on the wall…"

"Alec, enough!" Tank and Max both insisted at the same time.

"No. Why is everyone tryin' to gloss over the details here?" Alec had switched from sardonic to irked in no time, "You don't fuck with Reeco unless you got a deathwish or sizeable urban army goin' on."

"_We're_ not the ones who need this lecture, Dad!" Nyx reminded him scathingly.

"Oh really? So you _weren't_ playing mole in his underworld – cuz that's kinda what it looks like, Nyxie."

"You think I _wanted_ to parade myself in front of a hundred intoxicated losers?" Nyx hissed angrily as she stepped closer to Alec, "Cuz let me tell you, that is _farthest_ thing from 'what I wanted' when I moved out!"

"So basically you were doing it for _Brac_?" Tank sounded skeptical and Nyx turned to glower at him.

"I'd do _anything_ for Brac." She stated in a quiet voice before turning and storming down the hall.

"Nyx, where are you going?" Max called after her.

"To get some fucking food!" Nyx yelled over her shoulder as she rounded a corner and disappeared from view.

Alec blew out a loud breath and Max sat down and ran her fingers through her hair.

"God, this is such a mess." She groaned into her hands before she clasped them together purposefully and glanced up at Alec, "Hate to say it, but are you…"

"_Before_ you say it," Alec cut her off, "I am _so_ not 'still tight with Reeco'!"

"Do you have any dirt on him that could be strategically advantageous, is the real question?" Tank rephrased the query in his own way, and Alec grinned slightly.

"Oh hell yeah. Man I remember that time in Vegas…" His voice trailed off as he laughed and rubbed at his neck, "Ah those were the days."

"You realize if we don't come up with something _real_ good in the next 24 hours, our son's ass is grass?" Max snapped as she glared up at Alec, and his grin promptly left his lips to be replaced by a tight purse of annoyance.

"Yeah I kinda got that, Maxie, but you know somethin', why don't you just keep on spelling it out…"

"Yeah okay, that's enough of that." Tank interrupted the growing feud with a raise of his eyebrows, "Look, they're releasing Brac in the morning. My best advice right now is that you pull both the kids back behind TC's walls while we try and hash this out."

Alec sucked in his breath and Max shook her head.

"Not as easy as it sounds, Tanker." She smiled wanly at him, "I mean, lately gettin' them back for the _holidays_ has been a real doosey in itself."

"Yeah they're uh afraid we're gonna chain them to a bed in the basement or something." Alec rolled his eyes.

"Yeah well after tonight, that might not be such a ludicrous idea." Tank sighed and rested his elbow against the wall, while nodding towards Brac's room. "Anyway, Christmas is in less then a week. Just say you want them home early. I dunno, make an excuse, you guys are good that."

Alec's grin returned briefly, "Never got over that mission in Vermont, did ya Tankie?"

Tank scowled sourly, "Dream on, Alec. That chick dug _me_; she just _spread_ it for _you_ first..."

"Okay, you know what?" Max stood up emphatically with an especially mordant glower for her fellow X5s, "Since neither of you are making even a _smidgeon_ of an effort at reaching a decision, _I'm_ gonna call the shots!"

"What's new?" Alec muttered through his grin before Tank jabbed him in the ribs.

"Here's what's gonna happen." Max continued, choosing to ignore the subtle inference and raising her eyebrows, "We are going in there and asking Brac to come home with us and stay for Christmas till we figure this bitch out," She raised her eyebrows higher as Alec opened his mouth skeptically, "and Nyxie as well. Anybody got a problem with that?"

"What happens when _inevitably_ Brac says _no_ to our 'request'?" Alec raised an eyebrow and a finger in mock-student imitation, and Max smiled dangerously.

"Then we _tell_ him. He's still under ITU jurisdiction – it'd be like the government pulling troops out of a war zone."

Alec shrugged jadedly, "If you say so." He squared his shoulder and tucked his hands into his jacket pockets, "Okay, so when you gonna tell him?"

"Oh this is a team effort, Alec." Max replied nonchalantly, and Alec cringed visibly at the thought while Tank nudged him with a smirk.

"Don't think you're getting off the hook, Tanker." Max stated as she turned to him, "You're gonna stick like glue to Reeco's entourage and find out what tender recompense is in store for Brac after tonight's little incident."

"Uh in case you don't recall, Max," Tank choked and rubbed his forehead with an uncomfortable squint, "only way your daughter managed to get anything from those packrats was…"

"Don't say it." Alec warned with a stab of his finger in Tank's direction.

"All I'm saying is there's _no_ way I'm dancing on center stage just to pull some scoop!" Tank crossed his arms in self-defense, "If I do this, I do it _my_ way."

"Whatever. Just get it done." Max sighed and fumbled through her pocket, "Damn, where's my phone?"

"You left it on the counter." Alec offered reprovingly, and she rolled her eyes at him before turning to Tank once more.

"Okay, this can't wait. Can one of you call Logan and ask him to run a search on Reeco? Not five-hundred pages of crap, though." Max zipped up her pocket, "We need leverage, not dirt."

"Often the two go hand-in-hand." Tank smirked in fond remembrance of something which Alec seemed to catch onto and met with an acerbic grin of his own.

"Well in that case, tell him to go with whatever." Max clapped Tank on the shoulder and her eyes wavered between the floor and his face for a moment before they held his own, "Thanks…you know, for everything."

"Don't sweat it, Max." He winked and squeezed her arm before ruffling Alec's hair, much to his friend's irritation. "Wouldn't wanna be in your shoes for all the cash in Vegas, man."

"Thanks, Tanker." Alec scowled through his smile as his friend saluted the pair before trudging off down the hall.

"Good luck, kids!" He called over his shoulder, then whispered to himself, "You're gonna need it."


	3. Chapter 3

**Here's chapter three**. Just a note to say **I'm very grateful for the amount of constructive feedback I've received **so far. It's all been tremendously helpful, and while I haven't been able to implement as much of it as I would like for various reasons (plot bunnies will hop where they will), **it's great knowing what you as readers are interested in** seeing happen with this fic. The main thing **I can promise** is **insight into the seven years prior to this story** and **key events that transpired to create the current circumstances**. Though **there aren't a great deal in this chapter**, I promise **they'll come soon**. For now, try to enjoy the suspense and **keep the feedback coming**!

**-- Tyler**

* * *

Max started awake as Alec nudged her, opening her eyes and blinking away sleep as she moved her head off Alec's shoulder and he nodded towards a commotion in the hallway.

"I'm going to need you to calm down…" A doctor was placating, standing cautiously outside the doorway of Brac's hospital room, clipboard in one hand and the other hovering protectively over his face.

"I _am_ freaking calm! _You're_ the one who's hyped over nothing. Why don't you just come out and say it?" Brac's voice, hoarse with indignation crackled loudly from inside the room as Alec rolled his eyes and helped Max to her feet. "You think I'm a fucking druggie."

"Oh god, who woke the lion?" Max groaned and smoothed her messy hair as Alec adjusted his jacket and squinted at the December sun streaming through the window.

"Dunno, but personally I'd rather wait till I had some _food_ in my stomach before charging headlong into World War fucking three."

They'd already had a near-scale disaster with breaking the news to Nyx at three in the morning. She'd resisted at first, but after being made to fully understand that A: She'd be doing it for Brac, and B: There wasn't really a second option, she grudgingly consented to accompanying Jace (who had shown up a few hours after Tank had left) back to TC.

But that left Brac.

And he'd always been a harder nut to crack then his kid sister.

"How can you _possibly_ be thinking about your _stomach_ at a time like this?" Max grimaced in disbelief and Alec's mouth fell open incredulously as she strode ahead of him towards the room, "God, men. You're all the same."

"Yeah? Well what about women, huh?" He matched his stride to hers and caught up in a few paces, "You're not much better." He huffed as Max scoffed in disagreement, "It's true! Ask any guy what to get a chick; they'll all say the same three things – chocolate, flowers and a vibrator."

"Are you serious?" Max's nose scrunched up and she actually paused for a moment to look up at Alec, "You _never_ bought _me_ a vibrator."

"You never needed one, Maxie." He reminded her with a smug wink and she squinted sardonically at him before cuffing him upside the head and continuing down the hall.

"Ow." Alec muttered dutifully before his grin broadened and he followed her.

"What seems to be the problem, doc?" Max was already standing beside the shaken man as he backed entirely away from Brac's doorway.

"Uh well it seems your son is in disagreement with even having the question _broached_ that he _may_ have a problem with substance abuse." The doctor, an average-looking Caucasian Ordinary with sand-colored hair and thin-rimmed glasses, widened his eyes in complete exasperation.

"I see." Max bit her lip and the doctor took that as his cue to continue.

"Brac woke up and was impatient to see his sister. We told him she'd gone home early this morning after a procedural check-up before we signed her out, and then we examined him."

"How is he?" Alec queried and the doctor's lips thinned.

"Externally, he'll pull through just fine. The stab wounds have been dressed and stitched, and of course those will need constant attention, but other then that it was just a lot of bruises and some heavy abrasions on his knuckles." He raised his eyebrows, "Look, I don't want to lay it on too thick, but we found a lot of alcohol in his system last night, and we're talking a liter of 40 percent here. Plus when he was signed in, Brac's pupils were dilated and it was clear he was still riding a high – now what we don't know, but as there was no sign of external use on any of his arms, we're assuming the drug was an inhalable one."

"Like cocaine, by any chance?" Alec queried with a dip of his head and an unsurprised frown, and the doctor shrugged.

"It's likely. At any rate, this could have been a one-off, but it's hospital policy to offer help and consultation with cases like these. Brac is at present very high-strung and bears all the markings of a drug addict and possibly an alcoholic as well. I would urge you _strongly_ to get him help of some kind." The doctor sighed in dismay as Max's eyes dropped and an air of distress clearly overcame her, "I'm very sorry for the trouble this must be causing you."

"Don't apologize. It's not your fault." Max stated quietly, and behind her Alec sniffed and then swallowed as the doctor's analysis came to its conclusion.

"I don't know how much you're aware of regarding your son's habit, but depending on the seriousness of the situation, you may want to consider some form of rehab. The root cause of these sorts of habits isn't always what it seems."

"Thanks, doc." Max nodded, "We'll take it from here. Thanks for all your help."

"Not a problem. Hope all goes well." He shook hands with Alec and mirrored Max's tired smile before turning and heading down the hall.

Alec's lips pursed and he blinked at the floor for a moment, digesting the information. When he looked up, Max had already entered Brac's room, and he wearily followed suit with another eye-roll and an indecipherable mutter under his breath.

Brac was standing at the foot of his bed, fully dressed in his clothes from the previous night (clothes were still stained with dried blood and that hung off him in a way that neither of his parents cared for at all). His cheekbones jutted out more then they ever had and his eyes carried dark circles beneath them that worked with the stubble lining his jaw and scruffy cropped hair to awaken just about _every_ paternal instinct Max and Alec had going on.

"Feeling better?' Max broached, her voice and features attempting a warm pitch but still coming across as angry and scared to death.

"Okay _before_ you guys freak out," Brac raised his hands in front of him as a form of precaution on all fronts, "there happens to be a very, _very_ good explanation for this."

"Oh yeah?" Max raised her eyebrows and behind her Alec's face twisted into an unbelieving smirk. "Dying to hear it."

Brac glanced around the room before leaning back against the foot of his bed and crossing his arms. "Let's go back to my place – we can talk about it there."

"Or we could go back to _our_ place and talk about it _there_!" Max stated coldly, and Brac's jaw tightened.

"Mom, take a breath. You got no idea what's going down…"

"Don't try the pacifying act with me, Brac, cuz you know what?" Max lifted a finger, "You're about an _inch_ off from getting your wise ass kicked until your nose bleeds! So you'd better come up with _one_ good explanation as to why we shouldn't ship you off to Rehabsville in the next _two_ minutes, and damn right I'm counting!"

"Fuck that; you can't just waltz in here and threaten me with _rehab_!" Brac would've seemed almost amused by the insinuation had his pride not clearly been so wounded by it, "You know what, this is just typical! You guys are always so quick to go jumping to conclusions without even _trying_ to be patient! It's fucking nuts!"

"Patient?" Alec raised his eyebrows, "You want us to be 'patient', Brac? Okay, let's just examine the facts here, shall we?"

"Dad," Brac rolled his eyes, more at the calm, composed manner with which Alec was approaching the situation (it had never failed to irk his son) then anything else.

"You left TC five months ago and you're already up to your ears in Seattle's narco underworld." Alec took a seat in the chair against the wall and draped an arm across its rim as he leant back and studied the floor, "You're revved on drugs and I don't even wanna _know_ what else, while somehow tryin' to guard your ass from Jimmy _Reeco_ and his goons, who, by the way, don't play very nice. That about it?"

"Dad…"

"Oh wait, no it isn't." Alec glanced up at Brac with the same matter-of-fact expression he always wore when playing poker, "You just wound up in hospital after a scrape-out with Reeco's hound dogs – now _that's_ gonna go down well."

Brac cleared his throat and rubbed at the stubble on his jaw as Alec finished.

"So yeah, I'm kinda thinkin' _patience_ isn't exactly a primary virtue to be manifesting right about now. Whaddya say?"

Max's fists relaxed by her side and she eyed Brac narrowly as he sighed in dramatic resignation and walked over to the door, clicking it shut and turning back to his parents.

"You guys know who Reeco _is_, I'm assuming?"

"Name's been thrown around," Max responded, "Usually as a prelude to a _really_ ugly story."

"Oh god, here it goes again." Alec muttered with a sarcastic smile.

Brac's eyebrows arched and he shook his head as though clearing some of the mental debris cluttering it, "Uh yeah, that uh that pretty much sums up Reeco to a T. Asshole's one of Seattle's biggest drug lords…"

"We know this. Get to the point." Max's arms folded across her chest and her face remained rigid stone.

"So I've been sniffing 'round Reeco's heels basically since I moved out and there's a whole lot of shit going on with this guy that no-one knows about." Brac scrunched up his eyebrows along with his hair as he scrubbed a hand through it, "I mean, seriously, the guy pulls some nasty crap and has a butt-load of cops on his payroll keeping the law off his back."

"So lemme guess," Max's voice dripped with sarcasm along with her smile, "You decided 'hey, why not dive headfirst into the drug world of Seattle? I'll of course have to dope up and break just about every narcotics law in existence, plus dangle red in front of a whole pack of mafiosa bulls, but hey! At least I'll get a shot at Reeco, so it's all freaking worth it?'"

"When you say it like that, of _course_ it's gonna sound nasty!" Brac huffed in his defense, and Max looked so torn between bursting to tears and throttling her son that she did neither, instead turning to pace the room, outraged.

"Look, I _knew_ you and Dad were gonna have a blow-out about it. That's why I kept it under wraps." Brac explained in what sounded like a perfectly rational tone of voice as he watched Max stalk full-circle around the room while Alec remained apparently unaffected – though his father did raise an eyebrow at the last statement.

"I understand you're pissed, but seriously, it's not like you guys didn't take these kinda risks when you did missions for Manticore, or even for ITU!" Brac tried to reason with his mother, then winced as Max turned and lashed out, slamming her fist into the wall.

"Mom, calm down!" He urged, turning to Alec for support as Max pressed her hand against the wall and looked as though she was fighting off the urge to vomit. "Dad, come on! It was just like any other integration mission…"

"Yeah except this wasn't a _mission_, Brac." Alec finally spoke, face still bland and unreadable although his tone was slightly more aggravated, "You weren't assigned this by ITU, you weren't given back-up, research info, funding and most importantly, you weren't given _permission_."

Brac sighed and rubbed his face, "It was just some reconnaissance work…"

"Yeah that involved you taking _and_ dealing illegal drugs for _months_!" Max yelled, turning to stride a foot away from her son to glare up at him with a face full of fury, "Not to mention fucking around with Reeco's niece and landing yourself in a whole new pile of shit!"

Brac's face seemed to sour at the reminder as though he'd just bitten a lemon, "Sherrie is a…player being played. She's a plant – obviously I know that – but not bright enough to use without being used in return. Not like I enjoy it but it comes with the job."

"Oh yeah a lot of things 'come with the job', I'm betting." Max hissed acidly in response, "You wanna know why Nyx was working centre stage at The Viper? She was trying to dig up information on Reeco for _you_, to protect _your_ ass, Brac!"

"Again?" His eyebrows scrunched up incredulously, "What the fuck is with that kid? She got a deathwish or something?"

"Could ask the same damn thing about _you_, Brac!" Max waved a hand furiously, "I mean, when are you gonna wake up and realize that you're _not_ the only one who suffers from your actions?"

"When is _Nyx_ gonna realize that _she's_ the baby of the family?" Brac retorted matter-of-factly, leaning forward slightly to loom over Max and spreading an arm, "_I_ can take care of myself!"

Max scoffed, "Now where have I heard _that_ before?"

Brac rolled his eyes and his features darkened, "Oh Christ, here we go again. Same old shit, different day!"

Max's eyebrows curved upwards severely as her son continued.

"You wanna talk about _realizations_? Why don't we start with the one where you and Dad stop chalking _everything_ I do or say back to what went down seven freaking years ago?"

"That's ridiculous…" Max began, but Brac cut her off with an impatient wave of his hand.

"No it isn't!" He was breathing heavily by now, evidently trying to keep a lid on his emotions while Max watched him through deadpan brown eyes, waiting for him to continue.

"I'm done." Brac finally stated quietly with a nod for both his parents, "I get you're upset and I'm sorry, really I am. But Reeco – he's one mean son of a bitch. And I'm takin' him down before the year's over." His eyes fell as they met Alec's and he picked up his jacket from beside the bed, "I'll call you guys."

"Actually, Brac," Alec stood up, "we're gonna need you back at TC a little earlier then planned. ITU's stretched way too thin this month with the sudden climb in government requests for transgenic manpower – got a lot of bases need covering and we could use a hand on the admin side of things."

Brac's eyes narrowed skeptically and he inhaled deeply before shaking his head and pulling on his jacket, "Can't. Got way too much ground to cover before…"

"Yeah that wasn't actually a request, Brac." Max interjected, taking up the rear as Alec remained resting his hands on the chair rim and Brac backed away to stuff his possessions into his pockets. "Its all-hands-on-deck right now. ITU's reelin' in all its strays."

"I'm not a _stray_." Brac informed her coldly, "I left TC and, as far as I'm concerned, the ITU – so I think I duck the draft, if that's the issue in question."

"It's not." Max replied, uncrossing her arms from where they had gripping her biceps to rest casually by her hips, "The issue in question is whether you're gonna make a stink about it or not."

Here Brac scoffed – a bad maneuver, as it ignited the sparks of Max's fiery temper which she had been working hard to keep at bay.

"You think this is all a fucking game? You think you can just walk away from dealing and sleep soundly at night when Reeco's out to put a bullet in your skull? Don't you _dare_ laugh at it and say this is _funny_, Brac, cuz I got news for you," She raised her tone slightly, "It's _not_!"

"Max," Alec stated calmly, and she cast her scathing eyes on him for a moment. The quiet eyebrow raise from her mate spoke volumes and Max inhaled deeply before blowing out the breath and turning to her son.

"This conversation's over. Grab your stuff – let's go."

Brac laughed once more as he pushed away from the bed, "What're you going to do? You gonna _court-marshal_ me if I don't?"

"Maybe you'd prefer a stint in rehab?" Alec finally stepped in as the argument began to fester once more, his voice even and calm, "Is that what you want, Brac? Cuz that's the only option we're left with here. We got the medical system breathing down our necks to sort you out and if we don't, they likely will."

"I'm not an _addict_!" Brac snapped the words with just a little too much bite in his tone to backup his statement, "I only take in public or with Sherrie for appearances, and that's _it_!'

"Yeah and how long has that been going on? Three months now, maybe four?" Alec shook his head, "Doesn't work that way, okay? You can't just _decide_ that because you're not _psychologically_ addicted to a drug that your _body_ doesn't still want it bad."

"Oh so now you're an expert on drug abuse, is that it, Dad?" Brac threw out out, and Alec's casual shrug only served to further incense the young man, "Cuz I've been working with this kinda stuff for _months_ and I _think_ I know what I'm talking about."

Alec nodded with just a hint of a smile at the corners of his mouth, "Oh I'm sure you do. See the thing is uh…" He drummed his fingers on the side of the chair and stared the floor for a minute with a raise of his eyebrows before looking up with an awkward smile, "I was sort of in the drug business for a couple _years_, and I worked with Reeco for a fair number of those, so…"

"What?" Brac's jaw dropped open and he stared at Alec in disbelief before snapping his mouth shut, "Well that's _flagrant_ hypocrisy for you…"

"Yup, blatant and unapologetic." Alec spread his hands with a grin before he stepped closer to Brac, "But if you think I'm gonna let you make the same mistakes _I _did simply because I _made'em_, you've got another thing coming."

Mac watched the exchange with narrow eyes and a set jaw, wanting to tell Alec to either back her up in muscling Brac into the car or get the fuck out of her way.

But she held back. Something about the way Brac's shoulders were beginning to slump and the previous confident defiance oozing from him was beginning to wane slightly made Max content to wait for a minute longer.

"So these are the only two ways it gets to go, Brac." Alec approached Brac and stopped a few feet off from his son, "You want us to let them lock you away in some rehab centre where it's just you, the trees and Lindsay Lohan in a wheelchair? Cuz that'll blow _any_ chance you have of pulling one over on Reeco _any_ time soon, I can promise you that."

Brac's nostrils flared and his breathing seemed to quicken before his eyes dropped and he turned his head away in what seemed to be resignation.

"Look we can help you with this case, Brac, alright?" Alec drove the stake home with his final sincere statement as Brac avoided his gaze, "I promise, you can still have Reeco in the can by New Years Eve if we all play this thing right. Right _now_," He shrugged, "All we're asking is you do it with a proper _team_ that's gonna back you up. Now," Something about the way Alec's tone sharpened just a notch had Brac's eyes meeting his, "under the current circumstances, is that _really_ too much to ask?"

Max watched warily as Brac's jaw tightened and he swallowed heavily before his eyes dropped once more.

"No, sir."

Max's mouth threatened to hang open in disbelief but she quickly clamped it shut as Alec nodded in satisfaction.

"Good. Can we eat now?"

Brac appeared too chagrined to respond, but Max actually glared and bumped shoulders with Alec as she walked past him.

"What?" He crinkled his eyebrows up in confusion, "I'm _starving_."

* * *

"I mean, it is _so_ typical!" Max half-complained half-bragged, cell phone tucked between her shoulder and ear as she worked to lock her Ninja into safety.

"Boo, trust me," The voice on the other end of the line was as familiar as breathing for Max, "ain't nothin' typical about Alec Junior pullin' a stunt like _this_. What was the boy thinkin'?"

Max sighed and shook her head for a minute as she took hold of her phone once more, "Some fool-ass bravado crap, as usual."

"Mmm hmm," O.C sounded as though a sly grin was beginning to form on her lips, "Wonder where he gets that from."

"Tell me about it." Max, oblivious to (or choosing to ignore) the less then subtle jibe, continued in her previous vein of conversation as she walked down the sludge-filled streets of TC, "Anyway, I just don't get how it works. I mean, I come in there, willing to play good cop bad cop alongside Alec and what happens?"

"You came in swingin'." Cindy was clearly full-on grinning at this point in the conversation.

"Yeah! I mean, Brac came two inches short of having his _spleen_ torn out, I was so revved up!" Max shook her fist in the air beside her face to emphasize her point, pausing to flash a brief smile at a group of nomalies who wished her a Merry Christmas as they strolled past. "And what does Alec do? Guy stays _totally_ calm in the face of one of the _worst_ stunts Brac has ever pulled…"

"No biggie there, sugar. Golden Boy always had a lil' knack for stayin' cool in a tight spot." O.C placated her with a wry tone of voice, "Remember that time with Normal and the bikes? Dang…"

"Yeah well what _I_ don't get is how Brac can _completely_ transform so damn fast!" Max paused to frown at the overflowing trashcans outside their apartment building, "I mean literally; one minute he's _laughing_ in the face of Seattle's _entire_ drug network and the next he's 'no sir-ing' _Alec_ at the prospect of a stint in _rehab_! What the hell's up with that anyway?"

"Got _no_ idea." O.C confessed, and Max's lips pressed together in confusion as she unlocked the door and headed up the stairs, clicking it shut behind her.

"Will say this for it though," O.C continued, "If I were you, Boo, I'd start countin' some lucky stars Alec managed to swing it all this way. Ain't nothin' harder then reinin' in those firebrands you call your kiddos, I can tell you _that_ much."

"Yeah well," Max relocated the phone to the shoulder-ear sandwich once more as she fumbled for her second set of keys at the threshold of her apartment, "got a feelin' that taking out this Reeco guy is gonna be a bitch to pull off in the timeframe we got."

"Logan rustle anythin' up yet?"

"Said he'd call tomorrow morning. Anyway," Max twisted the key in the lock and pushed the door open, balancing the brown paper bags in her other hand as she did so, "I gotta blaze, O.C. I'll catch you later, 'kay?"

"Sure thing, Doll. And Max…"

"Yeah?" Max nodded at Nyx, who was curled up on the sofa hugging a cushion and pouring over a stack of papers.

"Merry Christmas, Boo."

Max grinned, "Call you later."

"Whatever you say, Ebenezer."

Max shook her head and snapped her phone shut, pocketing it as she did so.

"Talking to Cindy?" Nyx raised her eyebrows but didn't look up from her research.

"Yeah, just…catchin' up on old times." Max replied as she strode to the kitchenette and lumped the bags onto the counter with great relief, "Where're the boys at?"

"Uh I think they went for one of their infamous 'brainstorming' walks." Nyx replied absently, chewing at the end of her pen before her eyebrows knit in concentration and highlighting a sphere of text on the page in her lap. "Any luck at Central with dishing up a plan?"

"Nope," Max tried to sound unbothered about the fact as she unpacked the paper bags with a relish she didn't feel, "But there were some hot scores down at the supply unit. I got…" She scrunched up her face and peered intently at one of the labels, "Meringue mix."

"Mom…" Nyx began, but Max persisted in her false attempt at blissful unawareness as she continued to study the label.

"Is that even a Christmas thing?"

"_Mom_,"

"Cuz you know what, I remember Logan saying that…"

"Mom!" Nyx finally raised her voice enough for Max to place the packet down with like force and raise her eyebrows at her daughter.

"What?"

"Much as I would love to play 'happy families' like every other year," Nyx tossed her pen onto the coffee table in frustration, "This Reeco thing? It's a little urgent."

"Your dad and I got this one, Nyxie. Don't sweat it." Max responded matter-of-factly with a confidence that she _so_ didn't feel.

"Oh really?" Nyx moved the cushion aside and pushed into a standing position, "Right, cuz…last I checked?"

Max raised an eyebrow stonily at her as she finished her sentence.

"This was fresh news to the _pair_ of you last night, while _me_? I've been working on it for _months_…"

"Nyxie…"

"At a much closer range!" Nyx jabbed a hand onto her hip and the other hand limply by her side, "And so far, I've got jack, jack, and _more_ jack."

"Yeah well we're callin' in outside help, for starters, and for _two_," Max pushed back from the counter and walked around it, "your dad and I have been keeping an eye on you and your brother from a _much closer range_ then you think."

"Yeah, and the thought of throwing in a helping hand never occurred to you two?" Nyx queried incredulously.

"Says the girl who bitches about independence and DIY whenever her parents offer her a cell phone or an ink cartridge for her printer!" Max replied with an acid smile, and Nyx rolled her eyes.

"Okay that is _such_ a non-issue here!"

"Look, we weren't sure, alright, or of _course_ we would've done something!" Max held her hand to her forehead and leant the other one on the counter. Was it ridiculously hot in the apartment or was it just her?

"But you guys watch us like hawks. How's it supposed to…" Nyx abruptly stemmed her flow of words as the apartment door clicked open and in stalked Brac and Alec, both clutching suspicious plastic bags.

"Honey, we're home!" Alec called out glibly before he raised his eyebrows at the rigid blanket smothering the air between Nyx and Max.

"Logan call yet?" He broke the silence with a neutral remark as he and Brac placed the bags on the ground beside them, shrugging off their coats in the process.

"Yeah just to say he was lookin' into it and that he'd buzz us tomorrow with whatever he's got." Max raised an eyebrow curiously at the plastic bags, "What's in the bags?"

"Stuff." Was Alec's merciless response as he swiped them up and nodded at Brac, "I'm just gonna put these away, then we can…"

"_Some of them want to use you_…" Marilyn Manson's screaming dished out in grainy overtones suddenly permeated the room.

Nyx and Max both cringed in violent disagreement with Brac's choice of ringtone as he fumbled for his phone.

"Just a sec."

Nyx sighed wearily, "I'll say it again – some things never change."

"Dude, hurry up! My virgin ears can only take so much before the hymen splits and I join the ranks of the unclean!" Alec whined as he cupped a hand over his ear and leaned away from the blaring ringtone.

"I can't find it." Brac had given up on his pockets and was reaching into his backpack as the howling persisted, much to his family's ardent revulsion.

"Oh God, take me now!" Nyx grumbled as she snatched up her research and headed swiftly towards her bedroom. "Seriously, Brac, get _therapy_ for your musical inclinations! There's professional _help_ for this sort of issue!"

"Where the fuck's my _phone_?" Brac growled as he continued to search, when suddenly the sound of his own voice muffled out.

"I'm not answering. Leave a message if it's important and I'll call you back if it really is."

Alec laughed out loud at the recording, but his grin quickly disappeared at the female voice which spoke directly after the automated beep.

"Brac, it's me."

"Is that _Casey_?" Max mouthed the words to Nyx, who had reappeared in the hallway, face scrunched in confusion and a small smile tipped the edges of her lips as Brac finally got hold of his phone (buried deep in one of the mysterious plastic bags) and the message continued.

"Look I know we agreed not to call each other anymore, but…it's just been really difficult for me, and…" What sounded like a small sob escaped the young woman's mouth, "I really need you here right now."

Alec's face grew serious and he studied his son carefully as Brac listened with a tight-lipped expression, phone clutched in his hand.

"I…I don't have anybody else I can call but…" Casey emitted a sniff which crackled in Brac's speakers, "Please, _please_ just call me and let me know when you can make it over, okay?" There was a pause before she spoke again, "Bye."

The McDowell family stood quiet, each filtering the message through their individual sieves.

Brac drummed his phone against his lips briefly before he pocketed it and glanced up wryly at his family.

"Don't all bombard me with questions at once." He finally growled before turning and slinging his jacket back on.

"You don't _actually_ plan on going, do you?" Alec was the first to pipe up as Brac zipped up his coat.

"Casey's in trouble, Dad; it's obvious."

"Damn straight it's obvious. It's obvious they're after _you_!" Alec paused and narrowed his eyes dubiously, "Whoever 'they' are, that is."

"I thought you and Casey were like totally incommunicado." Nyx protested, spreading one palm from where she crossed both arms over her chest.

"We _are_." Brac stated dourly.

"Right so…how do _they_ know about her anyway? I mean, she lives in a different _state_!" Nyx continued to press her point, and her older brother gave her heavy-lidded scowl that plainly stated 'back off' as he rummaged through his backpack.

"Seriously though, you guys dated for like _three_ months back when you were eighteen." Max was evidently also having a difficult time grasping how the puzzle pieces fit together, "You broke up when she moved to Wisconsin and last I heard, that was pretty much the end of it. You guys agreed it would be safer"

"Ugh." Brac rolled his eyes and paused in his work long enough to twist his head up and raise his eyebrows, "Look, it's complicated, okay?"

"So simplify it." Max responded.

"Casey's mom died a couple weeks ago and she was totally messed up." Brac explained coolly, "She called me, all choked up, and yeah, I didn't hang up on her."

"Brac!" Nyx admonished with a heaving sigh and a shake of her head. "After _all_ the 'precautionary measures' lectures you dished out to me when I wanted to date on-campus!"

"Anyway," Alec clapped his hands together to stem the tide of vicious tit-for-tat he had no doubt was about to ensue( (plus he wanted to avoid hearing about anything to do with Nyx 'dating on-campus'…it would save some poor bastard his front row of teeth) "The point is; Casey's obviously in danger and we gotta bail her out."

"_Thank_ you, Dad!" Brac spread his hands and raised a defiant set of eyebrows at his sister, who rolled her eyes.

"You can thank me for deciding to wait on kicking your ass till all this blows over." Alec replied cheerily, patting Brac on the shoulder with a broad grin. "Besides – who says _you're_ coming?"

Brac's eyes narrowed tentatively for a minute before he smirked in response as Alec walked smack into Max, who grabbed his arm and forced out a 'can I talk you to for a sec?' between a grit-teethed smile before pulling him into the bathroom and slamming the door behind her.

"Max, I know you want me, but seriously, this is a _really_ inappropriate moment for a quickie!" Alec protested as Max locked the door, but his smile merely broadened as she shoved him up against the tiled wall. "You know what, spontaneity is actually kinda half the fun of…"

"What the _hell_ are you thinking?' Max demanded in a vicious whisper.

"Why the _hell_ are you always asking me that?" Alec complained in like manner (although his came off substantially less angry and a great deal more petulant).

"I can't _believe_ you're taking this whole thing so lightly!" Max hissed, not loosening her vice-grip on Alec and becoming even more aggravated when he dared to roll his eyes. "Do you have _any_ idea how serious this is?"

"Probably more then you do having worked with Reeco," Alec reminded her duly, his smile leaving his face and being replaced with a tight-lipped purse of annoyance, "Only difference is in the way I'm handling it."

"By acting like it's all just frigging cool?" Max retorted, voice a yell even in a whisper as Alec finally removed her hands from his collar and she stepped back to vent. "That may get _you_ through this, Alec, but _Brac_ takes his cues from _you_, remember? So if you want him to wise up to reality, I'd suggest you make more of an effort to at least _appear_ to do so yourself!"

"Oh come on. You seriously think Brac still wants to parrot my every move? The kid's twenty years old, Max!" Alec huffed in disbelief, pushing away from the wall.

"Oh yeah?" Max crossed her arms and squinted acerbically, "So then tell me this, Alec – how come he's still calling you 'sir'?"

Her mate's green eyes rolled halfway and examined the tiles on the wall beside him, "Tell me about it. Out of _all_ the habits he decides he wants to keep…"

"Look, this is all I'm saying, Alec." Max seemed to soften slightly as she kept her voice low and stepped closer to her boy, "It's already gonna be a bitch taking Reeco down while keeping Brac and Nyxie outta firing range."

"You're not wrong." Alec admitted, and Max shrugged dismally as her eyes grew pleading and held his own.

"All I'm asking is that you tone down the smart-aleck for a couple weeks till this is all out of the way." She reached down and took loose hold of the ends of Alec's fingers with her own, "Just every now and then, alright? Please?"

Alec gazed at her intently before his lips twisted and he looked away with a slight sniff of resignation.

"Dad." Brac's voice, rough and just a tad impatient, called through the door. "We headin' out or what?"

Alec raised an eyebrow questioningly at Max.

She glanced down at floor for a moment before meeting his eyes once more.

"I don't want him to go."

"Okay." Alec's shoulders seemed to square at that and he nodded, squeezing Max's fingertips as she looked away in what seemed to be guilt.

"It's nothing to be ashamed of, Maxie." Alec reprimanded her before pulling his mate into an embrace, "Come here, you."

Max sighed and her body relaxed slightly in Alec's arms as she rested her head in its favorite spot underneath his chin. The familiar scent of musk, leather and hair gel that habitually rode with the X5 had always invoked a calming effect with his family.

"You have to stay with them, Alec." Max whispered, pulling back slightly from the embrace to look up into his eyes, "I can handle things with Casey."

Alec's jaw twitched at that one and his eyes narrowed ever so slightly but he didn't hesitate to comply with Max's wishes.

"Alright."

She smiled wanly, "Thank you." Soft brown eyes bore into his and full, luscious lips curved towards his own, "When this over…"

"You are _so_ making it up to me." Alec finished her sentence with a grin, leaning into a brief kiss before pulling away as Brac's persistent call barraged the doorway once more.

"What are you talking about?" Max whispered with a smirk as Alec's fingers stole into the belt loops of her trousers and yanked her against him once more, "A whole 24 hours of quality time with Brac and Nyxie? You owe _me_!"

"Would you shut up, Fool-head? Some of us are trying to concentrate!" Nyx's yell of admonition had Max cringing (and hiding a laugh) under a very triumphant beam from Alec.

"Yeah you can bet on rackin' up the IOUs , Maxie, starting _now_."

Max rolled her eyes and slugged her sarcastic mate in the shoulder, glad that some of the heavyweight nausea suppressing her insides ever since the previous night had momentarily subsided.

The two X5s, for all their bickering and quarreling, had somehow always managed to have that effect on each other.


	4. Chapter 4

_Sorry it's been ages. New Years was mad (and extended) - too many parties, too little time *grin*. I did manage to stick to my new year's resoloution to not get hammered at parties anymore (I battled alcoholism for two years so I have to stay on the far end of the cliff when it comes to that). But other then that, lots of fun, good friends, good music - all the best of life. Hope yours was as smashing. Enjoy the chapter. _

_**-- Tyler**

* * *

_

The phone buzzing alerted the young woman, and her head, mounted with a silky mane of well-behaved, ash blonde hair knotted in a loose ponytail, lifted slightly.

"Aren't you going to get that?"

The voice was thick, the accent foreign.

Casey blinked once at the man seated at her kitchen table before she turned back to slicing vegetables on the counter before her.

"It's just my mother. Ignore it."

"Your mother is dead, Miss Trendon." The man stated with a raise of his eyebrow, and Casey paused in her work to rest her hands on the counter and inhale deeply.

"Answer the phone." Her captor ordered.

_A whole 27 hours with these freakos and they're still setting me on edge_. She set down the knife and wiped her hands on a towel briefly, a heavy scowl on her tired, pale features as she stalked towards the handset and held it to her ear.

"Hello?"

"Casey, hi – it's Max."

Casey nearly dropped the phone. She hadn't heard from Brac's family in years. It was nothing personal, she knew. As was the McDowell custom, they were merely taking necessary precautions to ensure her safety.

That was how it been with Brac.

_Everything was about 'keeping me safe'_. Casey allowed poignant memories of her ex to cross her mind for a fleeting moment, _Brac was obsessively protective. And much as I loved him, I just couldn't handle that kind of smothered existence._

"Hi!" Casey forced out enthusiastically, "Long time no hear!" She did her best to avoid glancing sideways at her unwanted guest, who immediately raised both eyebrows and sat forward in his chair.

"Look, I know you're probably really busy with all your _guests_." Max's response sent a wave of relief down Casey's spine – and brought on a tidal onslaught of surprise.

"Just callin' in to say Brac can't make it over there right now."

Casey closed her eyes in relief and rubbed a hand across her forehead, "Well no, that's uh, that's fine. It's not a problem."

"He did ask me to drop by though. Make sure you're doin' okay and all that jazz." Max sounded calm and reassuring over the line.

"Oh uh you don't need to do that…" Casey stammered, and her captor stood up from the table and motioned towards the speaker button on the handset.

"Actually I kinda _do_." Max's voice indicated she was wearing a wry smile now, "If for no other reason then that Brac would skewer me if I broke my promise."

"Yeah he does that." Casey forced a chuckle.

"Be expecting me." Was Max's final message, "Real soon, Casey."

"Gotcha." Casey took a step back as the tall young man stalked determinedly towards the phone's cradle and hit the speaker button.

All that resonated from the cradle was the remorseful whine of a terminated phone call.

Casey found herself backed against the counter as the man glared angrily at the phone, snatching it out of her hand and thumbed some buttons.

"It was my one of my high school friends!" Casey snapped, her demeanor as much as her tone suggesting she was affronted by the assault on her legitimacy. "Heard about my mom _dying_ a couple months ago and wanted to see if I was…"

"Shut your mouth." The man replied as he held the phone to his ear, "It's from a fucking _payphone_!" He slammed the receiver onto the counter in disgust, and Casey's scowl deepened but she didn't flinch.

At that moment, the muffled flushing of a toilet sounded through the wall, and around the bend stepped another well-built man, casually clutching a .44 in one hand and fastening his belt with the other.

"Who was it?' He waved his gun at the phone, and Casey turned back to her cooking, only to have her arm grabbed and be roughly spun around by the man closest to her, back pressed against the edge of the counter.

"He asked you a question, bitch."

"It was an old friend from high school." Casey retorted through grit teeth, and the men exchanged glances before the newcomer spoke again.

"Just a friend?"

Something about the way he asked the question had Casey's glare returning and she locked eyes (and horns) with her aggressor.

"A girlfriend, actually. See, we were lovers till her parents found out and moved her whole family to Canada. You want the juicy details?"

He smirked in response and pulled out a chair, sitting down and crossing his legs. "Why not? We've got time." His eyes never left Casey as her own followed the hand he used to set his gun on the table. "So you're a lesbian?"

"It was just an experimental phase." Casey responded acidly, turning to her cutting board once more, "Don't get too excited."

"That's funny." He nodded at his underling, and the Russian thug abruptly left the room, "I was under the impression _men_ were the item of choice after hearing about your relationship with Brac McDowell." His eyes twinkled coldly as he eyed Casey's bootcut jeans and bell-sleeved black turtleneck, "But then again, he's not really a man, is he?"

"Why don't you coax him into your pants and find out for _yourself_?" Casey almost growled the words as she scraped the tomatoes she'd been slicing into a china bowl.

The man, a middle-aged Caucasian with no defining accent and a smoothly-shaven head, let out a chuckle.

Casey gasped as strong, large hands were suddenly pinning her by the arm and the back of her neck face-first onto the counter.

"I make a point of steering clear when it comes to…" His mouth was less then inch from her ear, "What are they calling it nowadays? _Bestiality_."

"Same here, which I suppose why you and I would just never work!" Casey spat out, struggling in his vice-grip and feeling the cold press of the marble counter against her flushing cheek.

"Don't flatter yourself." Was his response, his breath warm and sticky on her face, "I know where you've been."

Casey felt her heart thunder with relief as she was released with a final shove.

"I wouldn't touch you with a ten-foot pole." Her captor stated before returning to his seat. "Unless, of course, it was to kill you with it."

Casey fought to regain her composure as she pushed off from the counter and straightened her ruffled sweater (and her ruffled nerves).

"Your little trannie should be here in an hour or so." The man raised his eyebrows at her, "How about that story?"

* * *

Max watched through the near-perfect lenses of her zoom vision as Casey swept her hair back into place. Dusk had brought Max on its heels with the first flight into Wisconsin she had found. Scoping out the site surrounding Casey's captivity had taken her a minimal amount of time, although Max was certain there was still slew of nasty surprises around the bend.

So far, Max had managed to do a full sweep on the perimeter of Casey's apartment and counted five snipers and at least three plainclothes by the entrance. The building directly beside the apartment afforded Max a glimpse into Casey's kitchen, and the X5 had watched the exchange between the young woman and her captor with barely-veiled anger.

_Why do they __always__ manhandle?_ Max grumbled to herself as she stepped out of the elevator and walked quickly through the ground floor of the building. _I mean is it some kinda twisted self-esteem issue that makes guys built like a wall with the horsepower of a Lamborghini muscle up people half their size?_

Max ignored the thronging pedestrians hurrying about their last-minute Christmas shopping as she stalked across the pelican crossing.

_Alec chalks it up to compensation issues or 'their daddy didn't hug'em enough' or somethin_g. Max felt the snowflakes begin to moisten her skin as she paused behind a phone booth, reaching into the backpack she had deposited there earlier and pulling on a neon construction waistcoat.

_Guess it comes with the thug trade_. She pulled her hair back into a tight knot at the nape of her neck and pressed a worn construction helmet onto her skull and down over her face.

Strapping a tool belt around her waist and ensuring that everything was in its place, Max used her foot to push the backpack out of sight once more. At that precise moment her cell phone buzzed.

Max sighed and rifled through her jacket pocket, pulling it out and thumbing the call to life after glancing at the number.

"What?"

"Where are you now?" Alec queried in a casual tone of voice which had Max rolling her eyes.

"What, Mother Hen afraid one of her own is gonna go hopping off into the jaws of the big bad Wolf without saying goodbye?"

"Fine, be a brat." Was Alec's injured response.

"I'm goin' in now. Wish me luck?" Max squinted at one of the men patrolling the entrance from behind the phone booth.

"Oh I wish you _life_, I wish _Casey_ luck." Alec retorted, and Max sighed at the veiled message from her mate. He wanted to make sure she understood that Max getting out in one piece was the number one priority as far as her family was concerned.

"Gotta blaze." Max broke the awkward silence that followed, all the while watching with bated breath as a teenager peddling a massive bunch of Disney balloons strode to corner the thug guarding the main entrance. "My mole's buyin' me cover. Gotta catch the window."

"Alright – be _careful_." Alec cautioned sternly, and Max cracked a grin.

"See ya."

She hung up the phone and nodded inwardly as the balloon salesman cajoled the plainclothes adversary ruthlessly with a Sleeping Beauty balloon. Instantly the man began to yell at the youth to back off, to which the teen responded with further insistence that his wares were the best on the street.

Max smirked under her hat as the other men guarding the entrance turned to scowl at the commotion, and she used the confusion to stalk purposefully past them and into the apartment complex.

_Too easy.

* * *

  
_

"She in?"

Alec turned from pocketing his phone to face Nyx's questioning eyebrow-raise.

"On her way. Let's just hope her window pulls through." Alec glanced around the front room of the apartment, "Where's Brac?"

"Locked in the hallway bathroom, puking his guts out." Nyx shrugged acerbically, and Alec would have flinched at the vivid description had not his daughter spelled it out so casually.

"Says he caught a bug in the hospital, but if you ask me, it's withdrawals." Nyx uttered a final word of judgment before returning to her research papers on the counter.

"That so?" Alec felt his face pressing slightly into a concerned frown as he made his way to the bathroom only to have the sound of violent hurling reach his sensitive ears.

"Brac. Buddy, you okay in there?"

There was silence and scuffling for a moment before a muffled response sounded, "Just heaving a little. Think I caught something back at the hospital."

Alec rolled his eyes. _Stubborn kid._

"Need anything?"

"M'fine!" Was the aggravated response, weak and protesting before the retching continued.

Alec's jaw clamped shut tightly, "Okay."

He turned to come face to face with Nyx, who had evidently been watching the whole exchange and was clearly waiting for Alec to call the shots on what they should do.

"Soon as he comes out, get him some water." Alec stated quietly as he walked past her, "He needs to stay hydrated – it'll help smooth it over."

"Why? You going somewhere?" Nyx queried, her eyebrows crinkling up as Alec headed towards his room, phone in hand.

"No, but believe me – right _now_, it'll go down a lot better with the proud-ass if it's comin' from _you_." Alec responded as he rounded the corner and disappeared from view. "And make sure he freaking eats something!"

Nyx rolled her eyes and sighed heavily as she glanced from the door to the hallway.

"Thanks a lot, Mom."

* * *

Max glanced up from the clipboard in her hands as the lift chimed, stepping into the hallway and nodding at an attendant as he walked past her. She smiled to herself as she spotted the utility room for the floor and strode confidently inside.

"Come on, where are you?" Max whispered to herself, pulling out a screwdriver and unfixing the metal panel opposite her to reveal a mesh of wiring underneath. "Hey there kids." She fingered a pair of clippers briefly in one hand while carefully thumbing through the wires with the other.

"Where you hiding, huh?" Max squinted at the different shades and minute lettering on the myriad of wires before she finally spotted her prize – a juicy, fat, yellow wire.

"Come to Mama."

* * *

The shrill blaring of a fire alarm pulsated through the room, bouncing off the walls and causing Casey's head to shoot up.

"The hell is that?" Demanded the Russian thug testily, but his superior seemed less then fazed.

"Relax. It's just a fire alarm." He glanced up from the gun he had been tenderly examining to raise an eyebrow, "Likely triggered by Thelma and Louise's granny cookout two floor's down or something. Ignore it."

"If it's triggered at all," Casey stated as she stood up, "we're meant to evacuate the building and gather at the meeting point outside…"

"I _said_ ignore it." The man repeated, putting down his gun and staring Casey in the eye intently.

The young woman let out an unfazed scoff, "You can _say_ whatever you goddamn want. It doesn't change the fact that in less then seven minutes this place is gonna be crawling with firefighters…"

"I said sit down!" He roared, proceeding to do the opposite as the fire alarm continued to howl.

"You _said_ ignore it!" Casey yelled, patience snapping along with self-restraint as she went nose-to-nose with her captor. "Now like it or not, you're gonna have firemen breaking through that door any second now, and when they get here…"

"Shut up!" The man screamed, his temper blossoming to a peak and the back of his hand swiping full-force across Casey's face. She stumbled back against the table, tripping over a chair and landing hard on the floor.

"Ronan!" The Russian's face contorted with alarm as he hovered anxiously between his superior and their captive, "Boss said not to hurt her!"

"He couldn't hurt me if he tried!" Casey spat viciously, wiping some blood from her mouth as she pulled herself quickly to her feet.

"You wanna stake your life on that?" 'Ronan' stepped forward menacingly, grabbing his comrade by the shirt and shoving him aside like a rag doll. Casey backed up quickly against the counter as the large man stormed towards her, face set like a flint and eyes crackling with anger.

"I don't have to hit you to make you scream like the bitch you are." Ronan gripped Casey's slender shoulders in a painfully tight grip and lifted her nearly off her feet in the process, face barely an inch from hers. "I could fuck you till you bleed and Reeco wouldn't know a damn thing about it."

Casey's lips tightened and her eyes narrowed…and suddenly Ronan's hand was gripping the wrist she had brought up gripping a kitchen knife barely half an inch from his throat.

He grinned at her as he twisted her wrist until she let out a gasp of pain and the knife clattered to the ground.

Suddenly the front door burst open with the sound of splintering wood, and Casey and Ronan both looked up to see the slim brunette step determinedly into the room and take in the scene before her with a raise of her eyebrow.

"Who the fuck are you?" Ronan sneered, not releasing his grip on Casey as Max sauntered boldly towards them.

"Here to evacuate the building." She replied sarcastically.

"Beat it!" Ronan snapped in response, and Max smirked.

"My pleasure."

The next thing Ronan knew, she was no longer in front of him. One second later, a boot slammed against his back with tremendous force and sent him stumbling a good distance away from Casey.

"I think it's Max Guevara!" The Russian man yelled over the perpetual grating of the fire alarm as he reached for his gun, only to have Max's fist slam into his face, followed with an elbow to the nose and a kick to the stomach.

"Casey, get _down_!" Max yelled to the girl, and she didn't hesitate, making a beeline for the bathroom amid a hail of bullets from Ronan's gun as he attempted to get a clean shot as Max's blurring figure.

Max's hands on were Ronan's gun from behind all of a sudden, twisting his arm up and over in a painful lock that forced him to temporarily double over. He reacted quickly, spinning his torso around and slugging Max hard in the jaw before tearing out of her grip.

Max tossed the gun she had scored over the counter and then balled up her fists as Ronan charged her ruthlessly once more. Blocking the first slug he swung, she landed one of her own and then swung out a foot that slammed into his solar plexus.

Ronan hunched with the blow but caught Max's foot the second time it came around, yanking her leg forward and kicking out at her other one to trip her up successfully.

Max knocked her head back to clear her hair out of her face and scissored her legs to knock Ronan off his feet. Leaping on top of the well-built, well-trained man, Max laid into him with as many slugs as she could get in before his hands clamped around her ears and his head slammed viciously against her own.

Max saw stars and fell back onto her elbows. Ronan jumped to his feet and swung his steel-toed boot at her head…hitting Max in the ribs as she rolled to avoid the blow. Somersaulting into a standing position, Max felt her mouth filling with blood and her vision remained a shade of yellow from the head-butt.

Ronan had paused in his assault, breathing heavily and evidently feeling the effects of Max's onslaught as he hunched over slightly and took a moment to suss out Max's blind spot.

"Had enough?" Max was honestly surprised the man was still standing after the ass-kicking she'd dished out. It hadn't been long, but it had brutal and Max had hit all the right spots and not pulled her punches in the slightest. Either she was getting rusty (highly unlikely) or Ronan was not all that he appeared.

"You wish, baby." He cracked a grin, teeth bloody but grit malevolently as they circled each other slowly.

"Oh please." Max grimaced in disgust at the patronizing response, attacking first with a series of upper and under cuts that worked together to slip past Ronan's defenses nine out of ten. Spinning around, Max swiped a kick at his chest which sent him smashing back against the counter.

Ronan glared up dizzily from where he was doubled over, "I'm gonna kill you, you transgenic bitch!"

"Don't count on it!" Max snapped as he charged her again, crashing into her with the sheer force of his weight and slamming her into the wooden table. It broke under their weight and the momentum of their fall, and Max sprawled in the debris with Ronan pinning her under him.

His massive fist slammed into her face and when it came down for a second round, Max grabbed his elbow in one hand and his wrist in her other, shoving him back and using it to topple him off her. Ronan fell onto his back and Max jumped to get up, only to hiss through grit teeth as Ronan stabbed a large splinter from the table into her thigh.

She swung out her other leg and slammed it into the side of his head, pulling away and limping backwards to tend to her injury. The foot-long wood shard was embedded deep into her left thigh, and Max let out a slight grunt as she pulled it carefully out of her skin.

Ronan was groaning and pulling himself to his feet amid the broken table pieces, clutching one hand to his head as he glared up at Max.

"It's not you we're after."

"Just my _son_." Max responded, teeth still grit in pain (and anger) as she limped a few steps back to cast a glance at the bathroom into which Casey had retreated.

"Tell you _son_ to come face us like a man and we'll leave the girl out of it." Ronan stumbled forward, blood pouring from his nose and mouth and one arm wrapped around his ribcage.

"Tell your _boss_ we don't negotiate with crooks." Max readied her fists once more as Ronan paused and leant one hand on the counter, breath ragged and eyes bleary from the kick Max had landed to his head.

"You can try that line on him _yourself_." Ronan coughed some blood and then a smile crossed his cracking lips, "Though I doubt it'll hold."

Max narrowed her eyes, but suddenly a searing pain coursed through her body as volts of electric current flowed through her back. She arched against the pain, shaking and unable to fight back as Ronan's underling, recovered from her attack, gripped one of her arms and used the other to shove a stun prod crackling with blue electricity against her body.

The last thing Max saw was Ronan limping towards the bathroom before she was dropped and her mind sunk into unconsciousness.


	5. Chapter 5

_Back with another installment. **Just wanted to announce** (because this will be the second time I've forgotten otherwise) that **the banner for Candy Cane is now up on the blog **for my DA fics (you can find the link to it on my profile page). **A big thank you for all the reviews and interest so far.** It's what's fueling the fires right now, as **the entire UK is being plagued with a horrible virus that's highly contagious** (no it doesn't turn us into zombies...that would be a really cool Hollywood script though - oh wait, it's been done and redone and OVERdone lol)._

_Anyway, needless to say, the invincible (or so I thought) **Tyler has come down with the dreaded bug **and isn't coping very well. I **despise **being sick but oh well. Writing is a little more taxing at present but it's still my lifeblood at this point in time, so **here's chapter 5. Enjoy and PLEASE review! C'mon, I'm sick** *makes Sam Winchester puppy eyes* You know you want to *gives Dean Winchester patent grin*...._

* * *

"Here."

Brac, red circles still ensnaring eyes that were still tearing from his violent heaving session, raised an eyebrow and wiped a hand across his mouth as Nyx extended a large glass of water to him.

"Thanks." He accepted it and sniffed, walking past his sister to throw himself onto the sofa. Nyx followed Brac, noting as she did so that his hands were trembling in protest when he held the cup to his lips.

"Ugh." Brac choked and threw Nyx a sour face as she stood over him with crossed arms, "The hell you'd spike this with, limestone?"

"Relax." She retorted, "I just put some of my vitamins in." Her chocolate eyes flicked up and down her brother's lean, haggard form with an abstract sort of sadness.

"No wonder." Brac grimaced as he took another gulp and then glanced around, "Where's Dad?"

"Uh last I saw, in his room." Nyx turned and stalked around the counter, "I made spaghetti…"

Brac groaned loudly and waved a dismissing hand over his shoulder, at which his sister rolled her eyes.

"What _do _you feel like eating then?"

"A whole bucketload of nothing." Brac responded, knocking back the rest of the water before slamming the glass down one too gently on the coffee table.

"Well you need to eat something. How about eggs?" Nyx suggested.

"Just the Nothing kebab with no added sauce, Nyxie." Brac muttered, eyes closed as he rested his head back on the sofa before letting out a loud 'ugh' of exasperation. "Fuck this!"

"What now, for Christ's sake?" Nyx queried as Brac jumped up from the sofa and turned to face her, running shaky hands through scruffy spikes of hair.

"Mom call yet and say how it's goin'?"

"Dad called her like half an hour ago and she was just going in." Nyx fished around in the fridge and seized hold of a harmless-looking yogurt carton. "What about this stuff?"

"What does that mean, 'going in'?" Brac continued in the former current of conversation, pacing agitatedly and scrubbing a hand across the growing stubble gracing his jaw line.

"Entering the apartment, most likely. Chicken salad?" Nyx squinted at a packet of chilled greenery in an effort to keep her cool under the contagious air of Brac's agitation.

"No. Where the fucking hell is my cell phone?" Brac's rose another octave as he rifled through his hoodie pockets in a manner bordering on frantic, "I need to call Casey."

"What? Are you crazy?" Nyx closed the fridge and straightened up in alarm as Brac finally located his phone in his jean pocket. "Brac, you can't. You _know_ you can't take that chance right now."

"What if something happened?" Brac thumbed at his phone with knit eyebrows, "You said Dad called Mom half an hour ago? Why wouldn't she have called by now, what if something went wrong…"

"Would you calm down?" Nyx stalked over to her brother and grabbed the hand that was holding the phone, "Brac, please, okay? You have…" She lowered her voice to prevent it from becoming a yell, "to _think_ about this."

"I _have_ thought about it, Nyxie, okay?" Brac hissed in a whisper that clearly mocked Nyx's effort at quiet, leaning down to glare at the young woman as his sister returned the scowl of frustration, "I've been scoping this out for _months_ and I _think_ I know…"

"Oh yeah well you know what, me _too_, Brac, alright?" Nyx whispered through grit teeth, keeping her grip on the phone as Brac attempted to wrestle free of her.

"Oh yeah, _sure_, Nyx." Brac retorted, twisting his own arm at an awkward angle and forcing Nyx to double over in the process, "You know what, why don't you just enlighten the rest of us poor dumb sheep about…"

Brac stumbled back as Nyx's fist slammed into his shoulder and she broke free of his lock, accidentally losing her grip on the phone as she did so.

"Brac, stop being an _idiot_!" Nyx finally yelled, finding her feet and whirling around to scowl as her brother turned his back on her with his phone in hand.

"Back off, little sister."

"Ugh!" Nyx stomped her foot in a manner reminiscent of her younger years, "You are being _so_ irrational! It's all the coke you take; it's fucked you up!"

"Excuse me?" Brac snapped, turning to face Nyx with an icy scowl, and she sighed with a tilt of her head.

Nyx closed her eyes and placed a hand on her forehead as Brac stared her down, "Just…forget I said anything."

Brac's eyes remained boring holes through his sister for a moment longer before he stalked purposefully towards his room, dialing at the offending phone.

He didn't get very far before Alec came out of hiding.

"Who you calling?" He queried casually, and Brac growled under his breath in frustration as Casey's answering machine came on through the speaker.

"Casey. She's not picking up." Brac didn't catch the brief flicker of disapproval that skirted Alec's handsome features before the young man flipped his phone shut in frustration and glared up at the ceiling.

"Do you have any idea where Mom's at right now?"

"Yeah, last I checked, she…"

"No I _know_ about 'last you checked'…" Brac huffed, and his father gave him a heavy-lidded stare which requested to be allowed to be finish.

Brac blew out a loud breath and all but danced from one foot to the other in a rare display of severe impatience. Alec, who had handled enough cases of withdrawal to be accustomed to the paranoia and agitation, remained unfazed and finished his sentence.

"Last I checked, Max was headin' into the building. Now that was half an hour ago, yeah, but she still had the alarm to trigger plus the whole operation of locating and eliminating Reeco's goon squad on your girlfriend…"

"She's _not_ my girlfriend!" Brac snapped out the words a little quickly, and Alec kicked himself for assuming a high-strung Brac would react to the X5's chronic teasing the way a laid-back Brac often did.

"Figure of speech. Anyway," Alec sniffed and clapped a hand on Brac's back as his son returned his attention to his phone, "No point calling Casey, man. She's gonna have blocked your number by now…"

"She wouldn't do that. Why would she do that?" Brac demanded huffily, and Alec allowed himself a patient sigh that he would have refrained from emitting (at the risk of appearing patronizing) as he steered Brac towards the living room.

"Security procedure, remember? You only drilled it into her a thousand times – think she'd forget that quickly?"

"Casey forgot a _lot_ of things I taught her." Brac muttered, following Alec's lead as his dad casually attempted to sit him down on the couch.

"I'll take your word for it." Alec quipped in response before squeezing his eyes closed and telling his wisecracking self to shut the fuck up.

Suddenly Brac sprung to his feet once more, causing Alec's face to twist (very briefly) in frustration.

"We gotta _do_ something, Dad. I mean, we can't just _sit here_!"

"We _are_ gonna do something, Brac." Alec assured Brac, "I just got off the phone with Sung. He's pulled a sweep on Reeco and the file's gonna show in my inbox in like twenty seconds."

"Sung's toothcomb isn't fine enough to pull up any genuine shit on Reeco." Brac ran his hands through his hair and shut his eyes tightly in concentration, "He goes for the drag net tactic – it's too widesweep; he's not gonna get anything we don't already know…"

"Uh you'd be surprised." Alec raised an eyebrow, quelling his son's confused rambling by handing him a brown folder.

Brac glanced at the object scornfully, "What is it?"

"Intel on Reeco." Alec waved the folder at him once more, "It's not gonna bite you, Brac."

"Nyx already looked through that stuff. She came up with squat!" Brac's face took on a palpably injured expression at what he was interpreting to be Alec's attempt at pacifying him.

"Yeah but you know dirt on Reeco she doesn't. _So_," Alec placed the folder down on the coffee table before raising his eyebrows at Brac, "it's worth a second shot."

Brac sneered but picked up the folder as he brushed past Alec, "Fine, but you look at it after. Three time's the charm."

Alec smiled and nodded to himself as Brac threw himself onto the sofa and flipped open the folder.

"Dad, stop it." Brac snapped without looking up from the paper.

"What?" Alec demanded innocently as he turned around.

"Stop gloating; I _know_ you were doin' it." Brac responded scathingly as he turned a page and then tossed the file down onto the coffee table. "Fuck this. I can't. I can't fucking concentrate!"

"Okay." Alec replied with a composed empathy he really wasn't feeling (oh _hell_ no – as far as Alec was concerned, Brac technically had _no_ feet to stand on when it came to suffering the unpleasant consequences of his rash actions).

Still, his boy was his boy – even though indulgent sympathizing and responsible parenting _so_ totally didn't go hand-in-hand (at least, not in Max and Alec's book. Okay, so they weren't the most empathic of people – it sort of came from being raised by the Lydecker Book of Etiquette).

"How about you take it easy for a bit, huh?" Alec sat himself down next to Brac and took an inward slug to the gut as he got a better look at the sorry state of his son.

_Jesus, he's almost as skinny as he was after we got him out of…_ Alec couldn't even think the rest of the sentence, as feelings of guilt threatened to overwhelm him.

"_Max, he's twenty, for god's sake!" Alec's image appeared in his head, all logistics and practicality, "If he wants to go to college, let him!"_

"_He can go to college here." Max's voice sounded in response. _

"_It's not the same thing, alright? You __know__ that…"_

"_Do I?" Max had raised his eyebrows as she broached the honest question, "Let me tell you what I __know__, Alec; __Brac__ plus __any__ other location then Terminal City has never failed to equal disaster and I don't see how it's gonna be __any__ different this time round!"_

"_Yeah well we can't keep him here forever, Max!" Alec insisted, "He's never gonna grow into his own life…"_

"_Yeah you know what, don't give me all that individualism crap you pitched at me to keep me off your back." Max retorted sardonically, "Because new flash? It isn't gonna work on me!"_

"_Would you rather he ran away again?" Alec's words had hit Max like a slug to the solar plexus, "Cuz with Brac's rate of determination, I wouldn't rule that out if we go drawing lines in the sand for him."_

"_Oh please." Max rolled her eyes and waved a hand, "He's not a kid anymore, Alec! I mean he's not just gonna take off and leave in a tantrum if we don't give him what he wants!"_

"_So if Brac's all grown up, what's the deal with treating him like it?"_

Alec blew out a breath and lifted his head to find Brac sound asleep, head lolling back against the ridge of the sofa, eyes closed and mouth hanging ever so slightly open.

Alec smiled briefly before he moved from the sofa onto his knees, carefully lifting Brac's ankles onto the couch and lowering the young man onto his back. Maneuvering Brac in his sleep was an art which his parents had honed and perfected – the one that had always given them a run for their money had been Nyx (who had inherited Max's light-sleeper curse).

Brac stirred and muttered something in his sleep as Alec settled him properly on the couch, rolling onto his side as he did so.

"Shh." Alec ordered quietly, resting a hand lightly on Brac's forehead and frowning at the unusual warmth radiating from his skin. "Sleep."

Brac inhaled deeply but his tense body relaxed somewhat – a subconscious response to the familiar touch of Alec's hand on his head.

Alec watched his son sleep for a minute before he stood up and grabbed Brac's heavy leather jacket, placing it carefully over his son's sleeping frame.

As he did so, a slip of paper fell out of one of the pockets, causing Alec's eyes to narrow as he bent down and retrieved it.

His tongue flicked over his lips and his frown morphed into an expression of deep unsettlement as the letters scrawled onto the smudged yellow post-it jumped out at the X5.

_TOI no. 007894. _

_T-Wing. Cell 62. _

_

* * *

  
_

The tall, rake-thin girl with rumpled, straw-like hair bunching around her shoulders in blonde, scruffy ringlets pranced purposefully down the seedy-looking corridor. The green strobe flashing from the large clubbing area behind her bounce off the walls and turned the artificial tan on her skinny, naked legs a sickening hue.

She nodded in agitation at the well-built men lining the corridor, receiving cursory dips of their heads in response. The girl, who couldn't have been a day over nineteen, rolled her heavily made-up eyes as one of the men's strayed to her cleavage (which was brazenly bulging out from the V-neck of her clingy white tank top.

"Boss in there?" She intoned in a husky drawl, waving a set of purple nails at the door to her right.

"In a meeting." One of them responded matter-of-factly.

She raised an eyebrow, "I need to see him, _now_!"

"He left orders that he was not to be disturbed."

The girl's luscious, cinnamon-colored lips twisted angrily. "I _think_ he's going to want to hear this, Ziggy."

The bouncer rolled his eyes and stabbed his thumb in the direction of the door. "It's your funeral."

She smiled acerbically and stalked past him, pushing the door open and walking confidently through the threshold, banging it shut behind her.

The room was small and dimly-lit, sporting only a three-piece set of black leather couches and a glass-topped coffee table. A lone figure sat cross-legged reclining in one of the easy-chairs, eyes closed and head resting in the palm of his hand.

The girl crossed her arms, raising an eyebrow with a sullen pout as she shifted her weight onto one of her hips and glared at the man.

"Ziggy said you were in a meeting."

"Ziggy did as he was told." The man's English was shrouded by a thick Russian overtone, and his buzzed head moved up from his hand, "What can I do for you, my darling niece?"

Sherrie Triveski bit her lip briefly and rubbed at her bare bicep before jutting out her chin and throwing all hesitation to the wind.

"It's about McDowell."

"He finally proposed." Reeco responded sarcastically with a wry shake of his head for his neice, and Sherrie snorted in disgust.

"He didn't come home last night…and he's _still_ missing." She glared at her uncle as she uttered her final statement.

Reeco raised his hands in mock-innocence, "I didn't touch him."

Sherrie's eyebrow arched upwards, "Then who did?"

"I don't know, but…" Reeco shrugged and reached out, picking up the cigar smoking delicately in the ashtray on the table and twirling it in his fingers, "Waldo, the doorman for the Viper, tells me there was a little scrap last night involving a young transgenic man," He poked his cigar at Sherrie, "one of the dancer's _brothers_, I believe he said it was."

Sherrie's face twisted and she leant against the sofa nearest to her, "Is that that trannie skank you hired about a month ago? What's her name, Natisha Colden or something?"

Reeco smiled, "That's the one."

"Ugh." Sherrie propped one heel up against the couch and rested an elbow on her fishnetted knee as she examined her nails, "Dunno _why_ you pay sluts like that. I mean, everybody knows trannies are only good for two things anyway."

"Two things?" Reeco took a long drag at his cigar and leant back in his chair before he continued, smoke billowing from the corners of his mouth as he did so, "And which two things might those be?"

Sherrie paused from scraping the dirt from her nail and frowned at her uncle, "Ass-kicking and bed-warming."

"Of course." Reeco chuckled slightly, leaning forward in his seat, "I forget – you have a great love for mutant cock."

Sherrie's eyebrows narrowed at the vulgar terminology, "Considering I suck it so that you and your _mob_ can continue making a killing off Seattle's narco-dependent population, I don't think you're in _any_ position to mouth off about it!"

"Oh Sherrie, Sherrie," Reeco tutted matter-of-factly as he leaned over the table and tapped at the end of his cigar, "let's not pretend Brac McDowell wasn't the greatest catch you were ever fortunate enough to bag."

"Why 'wasn't'?" Sherrie snapped, and Reeco shrugged.

"Well, you lost him, didn't you?"

"I'll get him back!" Sherrie used the leg propping her up to push away from the couch, "His phone's been on voicemail ever since last night. He's probably just stoned in some alleyway or something."

"Oh he's _far_ too well-bred for that sort of thing, dear niece." Reeco responded in a low voice as Sherrie paced anxiously before turning to grace him with a scowl, "Waldo ID'd the attacker this morning. Seems our dear boy has had a plant of his own all along."

"Ugh, no way." Sherrie closed her eyes and looked as though she had just sucked a lemon, "_Colden_?"

"You haven't been talking to her, have you?" Reeco's black eyebrows arched and his fingers threaded together in a pyramid against his chin.

"_No_." Sherrie replied emphatically, and the Russian drug lord in the sofa opposite her just lifted his shoulders once more before he took another drag of his cigar.

"If Colden's Brac's sister – little Nyxie McDowell…" Here Reeco laughed throatily to himself at the concept, "we have a very serious problem on our hands."

Sherrie squared her shoulders and pulled her frizzy mess of hair into a bundle at the nape of her neck before releasing it over her shoulder, "You think she knows stuff she shouldn't?"

"We'll soon find out." He stood up and snaked an arm inside his suit jacket as he stalked towards his niece, "I want you to do something for me."

"Some_thing_ or some_one_?" The young girl queried absently, pulling out a small vial from her bra and popping the top off to sprinkle a line of white powder onto the edge of her wrist.

"Nothing that will put anybody new between those skinny legs of yours, don't worry." Reeco assured her with a grin across his goateed mouth, "I just need you to get this to our dear transgenic competitor." He handed Sherrie a fingernail-sized microchip, and she eyed it scornfully after sniffing her line of coke.

"What is it?"

"Just some information I think Brac will be interested in. His father, too, I'm sure."

"Who, you mean Alec McDowell?" Sherrie's eyebrows crinkled up and her tongue caressed the edges of her teeth fleetingly, "Now _he_ is one transgenic I would _pay_ to sleep with. There's some _serious_ DILF vibes comin' off that guy…"

"Sherrie, please." Reeco stated calmly as she shrugged and pocketed the chip, "I am not even _remotely_ interested in hearing about your peculiar fetishes."

"And yet you're _very_ interested in _exploiting_ them." The young woman rolled her eyes until they rested on her uncle, "Is that all?"

"You'll get the chip to Brac?" Reeco raised his eyebrows questioningly as his cigar hovered in front of his lips.

Sherrie nodded and moved towards the door, "Trust me on this one, Uncle – I know how to lure him out of hiding."

"I certainly hope so, Sherrie." The drug lord yawned through his words as he sank into the sofa once more, "for your own sake."

Sherrie's rakish shoulders hunched and her hand hovered on the door handle for a moment before she twisted around to raise her eyebrows and point a painted finger at Reeco.

"Stop threatening me. I don't like it."

Reeco blinked stonily, "_I _don't like to lose."

Sherrie's jaw clenched tightly and one of her eyebrows fell, "You won't."

Reeco made no response, merely sucking at his cigar and keeping dark brown eyes trained steadfastly on his niece as she exited the room.

* * *

The persistent buzzing of the phone buried amidst a smatter of papers demanded immediate attention – attention that was soon granted it by the feline-resembling transgenic male who fumbled to pick it up.

"TOI, information, how can I help?"

"Hey is that Bling?"

The young man's cat-like mouth curled up into a smile that revealed his sharp-edged teeth.

"Alec! How you doing?"

"I knew I recognized that voice." The X5's own rang with the genuine warmth that had never failed to win friends and pacify potential enemies. "How you doin', kid? They still got you _chained _to that information bay down by reception?"

"Bite me – pay's good right now and Vestra's got a litter on the way." Bling replied breezily as he sifted through the papers littering his desk.

"Hey no way. Congratulations, man, give her a sweet one from me and Maxie, alright?"

"Sure thing, Boss." Bling sniffed and rolled a fountain pen between his thumb and forefinger as he glared at a form, "So what can I do for you? It's not often Central turns its face this way. What's goin' on?"

"Actually I was wonderin' if you could help me out with something." Alec sounded distracted for a moment, and Bling balanced the phone between his shoulder and ear as he rifled through an ominous stack of paperwork.

"It's what I do, baby. Hit me with it – whaddya need?"

"Want you to check out the visitor's log for an inmate, everything in the timeframe of the last five months or so."

"Not a problem. Gimme a sec." Bling swiveled his chair to face the flatscreen opposite him and proceeded to attack the keyboard with a vengeance. "'Kay, just loggin' into the database. What's the inmate number?"

"Uh, 007894. T-wing group."

Bling's fingers finished working their magic, and his head tilted to the side in intense feline curiosity as results scrolled out across the screen.

"Uh, that'd be X5-437. Incarcerated for multiple counts of homicide, abduction and at least four counts of attempted murder. Goes under the name Bren."

The other end of the line went completely silent for a moment, and Bling continued to scan through the results of his search.

"Still with me, Boss?"

"Yeah, I gotcha. What about those visitor logs?"

"Comin' right up." Bling clacked in some digits and stroked a button on his mouse, face lighting up along with the screen as the computer smoothly complied with his request. "Totally empty. No recorded visits since incarceration seven years ago."

"_Nothing_." Alec didn't sound convinced, "Are you _sure_?"

"Yeah, says so right here in the database." Bling defended himself from the scrutiny that was lacing the X5's tone as he scrolled down to check the log. "Wait."

Alec sounded like he'd cleared his throat just then. "What is it?"

"Apparently Bren had a visit about a month ago, November 22nd to be exact."

"Who from?"

"Uh…a Michael Tyson."

"You're kidding, right?" It wasn't clear whether Alec was amused or un-amused. "That's gotta be some kinda alias."

"Yeah well whoever it was, they got themselves a VIP pass for a visit. Bren's a max-security inmate. They've either gotta be a high-ranker or someone with a major set of strings to pull."

"Or someone with a very potent deathwish." Alec's mutter was clearly issued between grit teeth and was almost inaudible.

"Say what?'" Bling raised his eyebrows.

"Nothing. Look, can you get the guys from surveillance on this one for me? I want anything they have on this mysterious visitor."

"Sure thing, Boss." The nomalie licked his lips and squinted at his screen, "That it? Cuz I got a crap-load of paperwork on my desk that I'd like to get rid of sometime this week."

"Yeah no problem, buddy. Just gimme a buzz when you get that intel for me." Alec stated, and Bling nodded though the gesture was lost.

"Will do. Catch ya later, Alec."

"You too, kid. Let us know when the litter comes. Max and I'll swing by with some CatNip or somethin'."

"Very funny." Bling rolled his eyes, "My kids aren't even born yet and you're already tryin' to stuff'em full of junk food. You're a terrible influence."

Alec scoffed, "Yeah well it would be payback for that keg of beer you slipped Brac on his fourteenth."

Bling smiled to himself, "Gotta let a boy be a boy, Boss."

"Yeah well you weren't the one who had to stay up all night holding him over a toilet bowl while he puked the entire keg back up." Alec stated sourly, and Bling winced at the mental picture.

"That's disgusting."

"That's Brac – he doesn't do anything halfway." Alec's voice seemed to have gone quieter and hitched lightly at the end of his statement. "Hey so…call me when you find out about this Tupac guy."

"You mean _Tyson_ guy."

"Whatever. See you 'round, Bling."

"Bye, Alec."

On the other end of the line, Alec hung up his phone and pocketed it with a long sigh. He glanced from the paper in his hand to Brac's restless stirring on the sofa, at the paper once more and then at the wall beside him, rubbing a hand across his jaw.

"Seems we need to have ourselves a little _discussion_, Brac" Alec whispered matter-of-factly, his face set into a turgid blank expression and his jaw clenched as he fingered the post-it in his hand, "starting with what the hell _you_ want with _Bren_."


	6. Chapter 6

_**Wow that was a long intermission. I hate to say it (because excuses are lame) but I have a very valid reason - **the niece and the nephew. Babysitting is every sibling's duty - as is the consequent lullabying at three in the morning, forging school notes for truant older sisters on their request, dragging yourself out of bed at four AM because Juniour pissed his sheets..._

_Ugh. As a chronic insomniac I'm a walking bag of nerves on the best of days, but after last week? I have bags under my eyes the size of Arizona and look like I've taken one too many blows from the ugly stick. But thanks be to God, life goes on. **SUPERNATURAL returns tomorrow in the UK, and I have every intention of allowing it cheer me up. Some kick-ass reviews wouldn't go down sideways either** *wink*....Oh yes. _

**_HAPPY BIRTHDAY CHICA! Sorry I cldn't get this out on the twelfth, love. This one's for you xxxx_**

**_-- Tyler_**

* * *

Max's eyes opened wide and she started upwards as consciousness returned her sharply to reality. Almost immediately a searing pain coursed through her back and she let out a small moan of pain as her eyes adjusted to the harsh light of her surroundings.

The first thing Max became aware of was the tight pair of cuffs pinning her hands behind her back. Then it was the chains on her ankles shackling her legs to about two-feet worth of wall-dwelling chain.

After that it was that crosshatch bars of the small cage she was being held in, and the painfully bright floodlight blaring directly above it.

She winced at the pain in her back (which was now reduced to a dull throb) and eased herself into a sitting position. Her head ached and the garish lighting as well as searing temperature of the room in which her cage resided only served to knock Max further for a loop.

"Well, well, well."

The voice was thick, husky – and most definitely male.

Max rolled her eyes and leant against the bars of her cage, "This again. You know, you'd think after twenty years of being nabbed and thrown in a cage by you idiots, I'd get some kind of membership deal."

The figure, who was standing over a desk with his back turned to her, let out a quiet chuckle.

"You think you'd learn to stop being so predictable, Mrs. McDowell"

"It's _Guevara_." It was only then Max realized she'd been stripped down to her black tank top and hot pants.

Okay. That was it. Whichever perv had nabbed her clothes to sniff in their closet was going to be dead fucking meat once this was done.

She probably would have been more annoyed had she not been distracted by the sharp pain that emanated from underneath the bandage on her thigh.

"You know, my jacket was Gucci. If you mess it up, I'm gonna have to sue for damages."

"Ah yes, _Guevara_." The man waved a finger in the air before turning to face her, "Sorry about the removal of your clothes. They were merely required for a…higher purpose."

"Yeah save it. Plausible denial, might save your ass once I get outta here." Max ground out with a scowl, feeling the oppressive heat of her confinement radiate through her thin black tank top. Suddenly a flash of memory returned to her bruised and scabbing head, and she glanced up with a deadly stone-faced expression. "Where's Casey?"

"Don't worry about the girl, Guevara. She is in good hands." The man assured her, stalking towards the cage and digging his hands into the pockets of his long black trenchcoat.

"Hands that'll be shoved up their respective owner's asses if they so much as _touch_ her." Max responded acidly, holding dark eyes with her own.

He laughed.

"Believe me – I'm not messing." Max said dangerously, and Reeco sighed, circling the cage to squat beside the X5 while she eyed him in disgust.

"You really think your little brat is going to get within reach of Miss Trendon before me and mine string him up by his entrails?"

"Wouldn't put it past him." Max replied, teeth grit in revulsion at the close proximity of her hair to Reeco's grey-black goatee.

"Ah," He waved another finger at her, and Max wished with everything in her she could bust out of the cuffs preventing her from twisting it clear off.

"But you see, Max…" Reeco paused as he straightened to his full height, "I can call you 'Max', can't I?"

"Depends," Max glared up at the drug lord as she tested the durability of her handcuffs, "Do I get to call you 'Dickwad'?"

Reeco smiled tightly, the crow's feet beside his eyes puckering slightly as he began to pace slowly to and fro in front of Max.

"There is a lot regarding your son's involvement in the drug world here that you really have no idea about." He paused and raised his eyebrows, spreading his hands momentarily, "You might reconsider your take on my hardline approach to quenching Brac's efforts if you understood exactly what it was your boy's been getting _up_ to these past five months."

One of Max's elegant eyebrows arched upwards, "Why don't you enlighten me?" She felt a bead of sweat trickle down the side of her face and was reminded of the suffocating heat oppressing the air.

Reeco ambled casually to the desk over which he had been standing and began to sift through some papers. "I will be more then happy to give you a detailed rundown of all the ways Brac McDowell has been terrorizing Seattle's helpless drug addicts, Max – all in good time. But first I must really ask for some cooperation on your part."

"In exchange for what?' Max scoffed, "You spilling all the dirt you have on my kid? I'll pass."

"Well that is…" Reeco offered her a strained smile, "understandable, given the present circumstances."

"What do you mean?" Max queried testily, and the man smiled wider.

"I don't think you need to worry your head about that particular issue at this point in time, Miss Guevara."

"Oh really? Cuz I have _so_ much else going on to keep me occupied." Max scornfully retorted, and Reeco merely dipped his head at her in a chilling manner before he turned to leave the room.

"We'll talk later…Max."

* * *

Nyx glanced at her watch. 8:00 PM.

"We should definitely have heard from her from by now." She stated, glancing up cautiously at Alec from across the table.

"I know. She's not pickin' up her cell." Alec let out a breath through his nose as he rose to his feet and pushed away from the table.

"You don't think…" Nyx began tentatively, but the peal of Alec's phone cut through the tension (to the relief of both transgenics).

"Maybe that's her." Nyx offered as Alec rummaged through his pocket and checked the caller ID.

"Or maybe it's not." He muttered, thumbing the answer button, "Bling – hit me."

Nyx refrained from drumming her fingers on the table anxiously and instead settled for clearing the dishes from the table in an effort to distract herself from the very plausible possibility that Max and Casey were now in malevolent hands.

She watched Alec from the corner of her eye as her father stood, one hand resting on the counter and the other clutching his phone to his ear.

"Uh huh." Alec's eyes were tapered in concentration and his lips were pursed into a dark sort of brood which Nyx knew well enough to associate with major trouble.

"You're sure."

Nyx sighed and tried not to feel frustration mounting inside her as Brac stumbled into the kitchen area, looking half-asleep and like a milder version of death warmed-up.

"Okay lemme know when that comes through." Alec's eyes shot up and glanced at his son as Brac yawned and threw him a questioning look. "Thanks, I owe you one, man."

"Who is it?" Brac whispered to his sister as he scratched the back of his neck, and Nyx shrugged, motioning to the plate of food still on the table at which Brac turned up his nose in disgust.

"Alright, take it easy, yeah? Bye." Alec hung up his phone and paused to stare at the device absently for a moment before Brac's voice, hoarse and rough from freshly-terminated sleep, cut in.

"Dad, who was it?"

"A friend of mine from TOI." Alec responded quietly, and the air grew thick with static as Brac's eyebrows flickered slightly in reply. Nyx, catching onto the general direction in which events seemed headed, swiftly bowed out of the scene.

"Uh I'm just gotta make a quick phone call, see if any of my leads turned out." She stated, although she could just as well have not spoken with the lack of acknowledgement her words received.

Both Alec and Brac were now locking eyes, unreadable, collected, composed.

Nyx wasn't fooled for a moment.

"Okay." She muttered with a farcical smile, placing the stack of dishes she'd just cleared on the counter and heading swiftly to her room – leaving her brother and father to one of their infamous stand-offs.

As soon as the sound of Nyx's door clicking shut hit their ears, both men proceeded to speak at once.

"Dad, it's not what you…"

"Anything you wanna tell me, Brac?"

Brac clamped his mouth shut tightly and snorted in defiance.

"No seriously, this is your out." Alec raised his eyebrows, "You wanna take it, get talking, _fast_."

Brac's nostrils flared and he dug his hands into the pocket of his hoodie, glaring at the wall beside him, "Not that this is _any_ of your business…"

"Why don't you just cut to the chase and explain how visiting _Bren_ made _any_ kinda sense in your mind?" Alec's voice was harsh and low, his eyes burning with an emerald fire which had Brac on edge instantly.

It was the eye-of-the-storm demeanor which in the past had usually preluded a trip over his father's knee.

Brac had _long_ been out of the woods in that regard, but that didn't mean Alec couldn't (and _wouldn't_) still grind him into the dirt on the sparring mat.

Alec was clenching his jaw and folding his arms across his chest – more likely to keep them reined in then to appear imposing (Alec, like Max, didn't really need any help when it came to representing terror in the flesh if sufficiently provoked).

"Get cracking."

Brac sighed and ground his jaw, "She and Reeco go way back."

Alec blinked, "How so?"

"Around the time I became her walking blood IV," Brac's body tensed up sharply despite the casual tone in his voice, "Bren was actually part of a much bigger picture to bring Manticore back onto the map."

Alec's eyebrows gathered at the bridge of his nose and he placed on hand on the counter, tilting his head up in concentration as Brac continued.

"Apparently there was a project memo circulating the underworld detailing reconstruction procedures…" Brac sniffed and shuffled on his feet, "stuff like the DNA labs, genetic codes, sample blood specimens, etc, etc."

"You're kidding." Alec sounded like he was having a _very_ hard time buying into the tale's credulity.

Brac didn't blame him.

"I shit you not. Bren was just another exploited whack job in a network of dedicated scumbags, all with personal interests in the rebirth of transgenic harvesting." Brac sniffed and rubbed his neck once more.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa. You're tellin' me these guys had _funding_?" Alec was now making no effort to hide his incredulity.

Brac's lips tightened and he nodded wryly, "Yep. And no prize for guessin' who was pumping the green stuff into Bren's Extraordinary Ordinary 'project'."

Alec's eyebrows crinkled, "Reeco?!"

Brac raised an eyebrow, "The one and only. I know," He added as his father blew out a whistle, "totally messed up. But Reeco was investing in the hopes of scoring himself a sweet lil' vanguard of genetically superior warriors to…"

"Yeah, yeah, I catch your drift." Alec's face was a picture of disgust. "I dunno, man. It all sounds a lil' warped – why would Reeco cash in on a cook-can like Bren? I mean, the woman doesn't exactly scream 'sound investment'."

"Yeah well," Brac pinched his temple, evidently staving off a headache, "I don't think Reeco was over the table in his dealings with Bren. Soon as things went sideways, he pulled his funding and let her take the heat."

"And she told _you_ all this?" Alec's face hardened with sardonic skepticism, prompting Brac to inhale and close his eyes briefly before blowing out a calming breath.

"Yes and no."

"Which is it?"

Brac rubbed his stubbly jaw and then moved his hand over his hair as his head dipped down, "It was all my research. I just needed confirmation."

"Oh so what, now we have another Nyxie/Tarrant situation on our hands?" Alec sounded palpably frustrated at the concept.

"What? No! Dad, would you just…"

"Yeah I hope not, Brac, cuz I just _know_ you're not that _stupid_!"

"Would you just _listen_?" Brac's voice petered into an angry whisper as the space between his and Alec's noses grew thinner.

"I'm _listening_!" Alec ground out in response.

"Oh really, because I am _trying_ to explain and you're _not_ making it very easy, Dad!"

"Okay you know what? Ice the attitude…"

"You're not making it very easy, _Sir_!"

"What, you think that's funny?"

"No, Sir."

"Brac, I swear to god…"

Alec and Brac's patent McDowell tit-for-tat was interrupted by the blare of Marilyn Manson once more. Alec cringed and fell into tactical retreat at the sound while Brac offered him a triumphant glare and pulled out his phone.

"Hello?"

"Brac..." The throaty voice purred down the receiver, "Baby, where are you?"

His eyes narrowed sharply and his posture automatically corrected itself as his chin tilted up judiciously, "Hey Sherrie."

Alec rolled his eyes and Brac nodded in agreement.

"You have _got_ to get your ass back to the apartment." Sherrie continued, "Geraldine _Smith_ just showed up half an hour ago. She wants the deal."

Brac rolled his eyes and flipped on the speaker, raising a dry eyebrow at Alec which plainly stated something to the effect of 'can you believe this crap'.

"You know, that contract you had to sweeten _three_ times before Smith's people even _looked_ at the memo?" Sherrie's voice crackled through the room, "It's in the pot now, babe, but you need to get here pronto. Smith likes it hot – you keep her waiting on this and she'll walk."

"I hear you." Brac replied evenly.

"Look, you don't want my uncle bagging this deal, Brac." Sherrie cooed persuasively, "Right now you're his only major competitor. Don't screw that up."

"Oh god…you could've at _least_ picked one with a _brain_." Alec muttered with a smirk, and Brac growled mutedly and waved a silencing hand at his father as Sherrie continued.

"So you coming or what?"

"Uh…" Brac glanced up at Alec, and the X5 shook his head before gesturing at himself.

Brac scowled in vehement disapproval of the plan but an uncompromising raise of Alec's eyebrows informed him that it was either that or a total no-show.

"Yeah I'll uh be there or…send a rep or somethin' if I can't make it down."

"Can't make it down? Where _are_ you?" Sherrie sounded demanding, agitated – aggressive.

"Sector 4." Brac replied, "Got a hot lead on a new stoner colony lookin' for a dealer."

"That's small fry, Brac, and you know it." Sherrie huffed indignantly, "Now get your butt here before nine or Smith's out of the picture."

Alec's eyebrows shot up and his hand quickly went to his mouth to fend off a laugh of disbelief. Brac's eyes widened dangerously and he mouthed a phrase to the tune of 'shut up' through grit teeth.

"Brac?" Sherrie demanded indignantly, "Are you getting all this, or have you just not crashed yet?"

"Dude, you are _so_ whipped." Alec whispered through a grin, and Brac sent an airborne smack upside the head his way before responding to the girl on the line.

"I came down hours ago. Stop makin' a scene. I'll be there when I can."

"_Before_ nine, Brac…"

"Later, Shers." Brac terminated the phone call and then imitated hurling it at Alec's head. "You're such an idiot sometimes, you know that?"

Alec just shrugged, "Not my fault Reeco's lil' angel has a bossy streak."

"Yeah well it's not mine either." Brac responded mordantly, and then rubbed at his eyes and chin, "So what, you're just gonna show and hope for the best?"

"Somethin' like that." Alec replied, shrugging on his thick leather jacket.

Brac scoffed and rested his back against the counter, "You realize it's a complete trap, right?"

Alec sniffed and shook his head, "I don't think so." He headed towards his room, and Brac pushed off from the counter and followed him down the hall.

"How do you figure?"

"Well Sherrie may be a pretentious little squirt but it doesn't run in the bloodline." Alec entered the master bedroom, Brac pausing in the doorway, flipping on the light as he rifled through one of the chest of drawers. "If she's takin' her call from Reeco, it's not gonna be some kinda ambush. He's not playing this that way."

"What do you mean?" Brac planted a hand on the doorframe above him and spread the other one in agitation, "He nabbed Casey, didn't he?"

"Yeah, but it wasn't cuz he couldn't get you, kid – don't think like that." Alec paused and glanced up to raise his eyebrows and point a finger at his son, "Reeco coulda had your head on a plate anytime he wanted when you were out there. He wasn't about to have you killed off without tarnishing your reputation first."

"No." Brac shook his head, eyes narrowed, "That makes no sense. Reeco couldn't get a whack at me – that's why he went after Casey."

"Look, you know where Reeco hangs, right?" Alec straightened up and looked directly at the young man, and Brac's bottom lip jutted out for a moment as he nodded in a half-circle.

"More or less."

"Yeah and you didn't just traipse in and shoot him in the head, did you?"

Brac blinked as though Alec had just accused him of being stupid, "Of course not. That would defeat the purpose of…"

"Yeah well Reeco's workin' on the same railroad. In fact, he's probably two steps ahead of whatever you're throwin' at him." Alec produced his .44 and several clips, "Casey wasn't bait for you."

Brac let go of the doorframe and his head tilted to the side, eyes squinting intently, "Wait, what do you mean?"

"Took me long enough, I swear I'm gettin' rusty – it's not you he's after, it's your mom." Alec's tone had hardened and his eyes were scowling at the clip he was loading into the gun.

"What? But _why_?"

"I don't know, Brac. You wanna tell me? I mean you're the one with all the intel, right?" Alec's voice worked like a smack of sarcasm whipping across Brac's face.

"Come again?" Brac's face puckered into a challenging glare, and Alec, completely unfazed by the daunting expression, mirrored the hereditary scowl with the original version.

"You had all this under control, right, Brac? Your first big break, winging it alone, no help from anyone?"

Brac shook his head at the wall in revulsion, "You're making this way too personal."

"Personal?" Alec's eyebrows hit the roof and he drew back in mock surprise before continuing, "You're right. I'm sorry. I mean, how could this become personal? You're _just_ my son, after all. Nyx is _only_ your kid sister, Max is _just_ your mother."

Brac slammed a hand against the doorframe, "Don't. Don't fucking start that crap!"

"Why, you don't wanna hear it?" Alec was a perfect image of composure, but his tone was laced with acid as he turned and faced his son fully, "Cuz lemme tell you, Brac, I couldn't give a rat's ass what you want or don't want right now."

Brac inhaled sharply and blew out the breath, fighting to manifest the same control as Alec as he leant forward, "I _never_ asked for your _help_." He hissed in what was almost a whisper.

"That's exactly the point." Alec lowered his voice to match his son's as he looked at him with eyes that radiated disappointment, "And now? You're up to your neck in a pile of crap and everyone you care about is taking the fall-out. Again."

The words sliced deep. The angry glare cloaking Brac's features began fighting for dominance with a pained expression. It was a look that so rarely came to the fore with the headstrong transgenic. Brac had not inherited Max's innate self-blame – instead he shared the 'no regrets' genetic pool with Alec…who, subsequently enough, was one of the only people in the world who could knock Brac's self-justification for a loop.

Not that it was something Alec usually resorted to.

Brac swallowed heavily and his eyes strayed pointedly to the roof, making no response to his father's crushing statement.

Alec was still giving him that look, the almost pitying eyes of disgust and chronic disappointment while somehow managing to label Brac's actions as expected.

"I'm done playing hide and seek with whatever's going on inside your head." Alec finally spoke up quietly, turning his back and tucking his gun into the inside pocket of his jacket, "You're off the case."

"Excuse me?" Brac demanded, eyes flaring with indignation as Alec pocketed several other items and reached into his cupboard.

"Hey, I don't like it either, pal…oh wait," Alec paused and glanced dramatically to the left in thought before continuing with an acerbic shrug, "yeah that's be a lie."

Brac felt his blood boil in his veins, "Screw that." He flipped Alec the bird with a virulent smile and turned to stalk down the hall. "_I'm_ done kowtowing to all this superior officer bullshit you X-series love throwing at the rest of us."

Nyx exited her room at that precise moment, face pressed into an expression of desperation. She grabbed Brac's arm and whirled him around.

"Brac, stop, okay? Just…think about this."

"Get off, Nyx." Brac growled, twisting to yank his sweater out of his sister's grasp and storming into the front room.

"This isn't gonna help anything! Reeco's probably got Mom now and if we don't stick together, she's screwed!" Nyx insisted, her eyes wavering with very real fear as she stood between Brac and his path of exit with a pleading expression.

"Well tell that to _Dad_, Nyxie!" Brac finally burst out in a yell, leaning over the small girl and waving an arm in the direction of the hallway, "_He's_ the one pulling fucking rank just so he can go charging off like a kamikaze!"

"What? Where's he going?" Nyx queried in confusion, glancing up worriedly as Alec entered the scene (looking, she noticed, ready to pound his head – or someone else's – into the nearest brick wall).

"Sherrie wants to meet and Dad wants to show instead of me, which is _fine_," Brac raised his voice along with his eyebrows pointedly at Alec, "but what's _not_ fine is he thinks he can just bark an order and kick me off the case!"

"Maybe if you'd filled in all the fucking blanks before it got your mom and Casey _nabbed_, I wouldn't have felt the urge." Alec responded sardonically, and Nyx noted he was pulling on his biking gloves as he spoke.

"I'm feelin' a whole other kinda _urge_ coming on right about now!" Brac snapped back, fists balling by his sides as he took a step closer to Alec.

"What're you gonna do, Brac?" Alec scoffed, not even bothering to look up from his gloves but allowing a dry grin to crease one side of his jaw, "You wanna slug this out on the mat while Casey gets fingered by Reeco's goons?"

"Dad!" Nyx admonished sharply, and Brac sidestepped his sister with an almost glowing aura of fury.

"Cuz _that's_ gonna be such a productive use of time," Alec continued unapologetically, "havin' to stall on busting the girls out just to hand you your ass, yeah great idea, Brac."

"I am _through_ listening to this shit!" Brac's yell was so sudden it caused Nyx to jump and Alec stance to tighten along with his jaw as he turned to eye his son stonily.

Brac raised his eyebrows and bared a set of glistening grit teeth, "I'm out of here." With those words, he whirled around and headed determinedly towards the door.

"You walk out that door, a whole load of crap's comin' your way, Brac. I can promise you that."

Alec's matter-of-fact proclamation didn't slow Brac down for a moment as he pulled on his jacket.

"Oh yeah, like what?" Brac's query was wry and rhetorical, non-committal even, and his eyes followed his fingers in yanking up the zip on his coat.

"Why don't you walk out that door and find out?" Alec responded coolly.

Nyx's eyes flew warily from her father to her brother as Brac paused momentarily in his tracks.

Only for a minute.

Alec said nothing further. But Nyx knew the dark steel seeping into his eyes well enough to feel desperate for a diplomatic solution to the crisis.

Then Brac was pulling the apartment's sturdy door open and stalking through it purposefully.

Nyx's heart jumped into her throat and she instinctively leapt back, grabbing the counter as Alec left her side in a blur. Barely a second later, the X5's hands were on Brac's collar on the opposite side of the room.

Nyx watched, a long breath held in her throat and eyes wide, as Brac was whirled around and delivered a solid K.O blow from Alec's fist. The young man fell limply in Alec's grip, rendered instantly unconscious from the sheer force of the carefully-placed hit.

"You were _begging_ for that one, Brackie-boy." Alec grumbled, evidently less then pleased about the turn of events as he clutched Brac with one arm and titled his jaw to the side to check the damage with the other. "Ah you'll be fine."

Nyx swallowed and pushed off from the counter, cautiously taking several steps towards Alec, who had lifted Brac in his arms as though the 170 lb transgenic weighed in a kilo up from his mother.

"What are you gonna do with him?" Nyx queried after she and Alec had exchanged a moment of intensely awkward silence before the latter had headed down the hallway with an armful of Brac.

"Keep him out of trouble, much as that's gonna bite Brac in the ass." Alec muttured, using his foot to nudge the door to Brac's bedroom open and stepping inside, Nyx on his heels. "Seems he can't go a week without opening a new can of _melodrama_ on the rest of us."

"Dad, he _knows_ this is his fault." Nyx ventured, standing behind Alec as he deposited Brac's unconscious frame onto the bed and arranged him comfortably. "Maybe you could cut him a break."

"Yeah well I gotta clean his mess up first." Alec replied staunchly, straightening up and turning to his daughter, "Want you to head on over to Central and see if the techies can't get a feed off Max's pager. Do a recon sweep on the security intel at Casey's – scoop for feedback on where they might've taken'em."

"What about Brac?" Nyx frowned questioningly as she nodded her head at the incapacitated young man.

"I'll take care of it. Don't worry, just go." Alec clapped her on the arm before brushing past the small-framed girl and heading for the door.

Nyx debated inwardly for a moment before she followed him into the hallway. "Where are you gonna be?"

"Getting your mom back." Alec's tone and body language made it sound as though he was bringing a suit to the Laundromat. "Go on, get down there. I'll hook up with you later."

Nyx bit her cheek resignedly as she accepted her jacket Alec was holding out to her, pulling it on and zipping it up. "Promise you'll keep me in the know on this one, Dad."

It was more of a quiet plea then a command, and Nyx watched Alec's poker-face waned for a moment.

He swallowed and then dipped his head, "Promise me you'll stay inside T.C."

Nyx sighed softly and shifted her shoulders, "Okay. You gonna keep me in the know?"

Alec mirrored her previous actions (surprisingly well) "Okay. You gonna stay inside T.C?"

_Typical_. Nyx closed her eyes and scraped her bangs away from her face. "Whatever. Just…_please_ give Central a buzz once you've met with Sherrie."

Alec winked and ruffled Nyx's silky chestnut hair briefly, "Get going, would you?"

Nyx batted his hand away with a frumpish scowl and slipped through the front doorway. "Bye, Dad."

She was aware of Alec leaning against the doorframe, preoccupied eyes on her retreating figure as Nyx strode down the stairs and disappeared from sight.


	7. Chapter 7

_**Back after a hiatus. My birthday was the 25th** and a bunch of my mates and I went out clubbing on the night of the 24th. It was great fun, until some overly-zealous bouncers got worked up over a justifiable spat some us got into (that sleazeball **totally **touched my friend's ass, I don't care **what **their 'policy on aggression' is *grin*)** Okay so was I scrapping for a fight...but I was so good all evening** (even though I got my ass groped three times, I totally let it go). Oh well. **Got this up as soon as I could. Hope it's alright. Review for me, darlings**_ - it being my birthday and all. :P Naw... I know you will.

_**-- Tyler**_

* * *

Casey looked up from her cage as Reeco entered the holding room, which pulsated with the same throbbing heat as Max's confinement quarters.

She swallowed heavily once before a stony demeanor overtook her features and she cleared her throat loudly.

Reeco smiled politely at the noise and turned full to face her.

"And how are we feeling, Miss Trendon?"

Casey raised an eyebrow in sardonic incredulity, her tongue scraping at a chip in one of her canines. Her lips pressed together and then she responded.

"Where's Max?"

"Around." Reeco stated absently, pulling out a metal chair from the small sentinel desk several feet away from Casey's cage and straddling it, "She's being seen to, Casey – no need for alarm."

"See, your version of 'being seen to' is pretty much the _crowning_ reason for any _alarm_ I'd be feeling right about now." Casey fingered the cold iron bands cuffing her wrists behind her back and winced slightly at the sharp pain it caused. "You know, these things are too tight."

"If you don't pull on them, they won't cut you." Reeco shrugged, and then an intense scrutiny overcame his face as he studied Casey far too intently for her liking.

She glared at the drug lord uncomfortably before her gaze flickered to the floor and back up again. "What?"

Reeco snorted slightly in soft amusement as a quiet smile played at his lips, "It's just interesting." He pushed away from the chair and stood up, "You were being groomed for what could have been the greatest career opportunity ever to come your way, and instead of embracing it, you followed your heart like a sucker and threw it all away."

Casey's eyes narrowed, "Not tracking."

"You were an _investment_, Trendon." Reeco snapped, and she felt her muscles tighten and chin stray up slightly at the malicious edge that his tone had suddenly adopted, "Imagine. In the prime of adolescence, empowered with extraordinary strength and abilities. And yet the first opportunity you got, you abandoned the only hope of greatness you will _ever_ have and took everybody else, kicking and screaming in protest, along with you."

Casey's mouth fell open a tad as she realized what Reeco was referring to. Then her eyes blazed furiously, "You're talking about that psychotic transgenic woman's _cult_? The whack-job who kidnapped _dozens_ of teenagers and pumped them full of an abducted thirteen year-old's _blood_ so she could make us more like _her_?"

"Exactly what moral difference does it make to you what form Brac McDowell's blood takes inside of you?" Reeco queried coolly with a raise of his eyebrows.

"I don't know what you're talking about." She replied scathingly.

"Oh but _I_ do." Reeco responded evenly, "It's been almost four months, hasn't it?"

Casey just blinked at him.

"That weekend Brac spent at your place in September while he was sorting out that stalker problem of yours. You tried to keep things professional but…" He spread his hands, "you just couldn't keep your hands off each other – could you, Miss Trendon?"

If she was shocked, Casey's feral scowl did little to display the fact, "You know, we were wondering who had the bling to write a six-figure paycheck for my…'stalker problem'." She smirked once, tightly and with narrowed eyes, "Now we know, huh?"

Reeco shrugged and reached into his jacket pocket, pulling out a cigar as he did so, "That we do."

"Yeah…sorry for the mess Brac made of your hired hand's face." Casey tossed a strand of hair back from her face with a jerk of her head, "Or wait…weren't there three of them? It's a little hazy. Anyway, hope the hospital bill didn't skyrocket over your budget. Brac sees a little red when it comes to…"

"People he cares for?" He raised his eyebrows at waved the cigar at her, "While we're on that topic; when exactly where you planning on letting Brac know about his baby?"

Casey's face paled and she straightened against the bars of her cage, jaw clenching tightly as Reeco clenched the cigar between his teeth and flicked on a lighter.

"Oh yes." He ground out, word slightly muffled and pausing as he took a deep drag on his cigar and ignited it fully. Reeco moved the cigar from his mouth and pointed it at Casey, "You may have succeeded in hiding it from the father, but not from us, Miss Trendon."

Casey swallowed convulsively and inhaled deeply before she blew out the breath, "What do you want with me?" It was somewhat of a desperate query.

"It's not about what we want with _you_. It's about what we want with _Brac_." Reeco stated, sucking another puff from his cigar.

"Look, I don't know anything about Brac or what he does anymore, okay? Just…please don't hurt my baby." Casey somehow managed to sound calm and reasonable though drops of fear were leaking through her voice.

"Be that as it may," Reeco sounded as though he highly doubted the veracity of her statement, "You do know a great deal about his _parents_ – his mother specifically."

"Max and I haven't seen each other for years. I…I don't know what…"

"You don't _know_ that she has exemplary DNA?" The smoke coiling from Reeco's mouth as he spoke evaporated in the searing room temperature. "You're not _aware_ that there's not a single biological imperfection inside _or_ outside the woman?" He leant forward, "You don't _know_ that 494 was actually created to be her chemical match and that two of them together bred Wonderboy – father of your child?"

"You will _never_ have 'my child'." Casey ground out the words through teeth clenched tightly together.

"Oh I don't need him. Just his father." Reeco assured her, resting a hand on his knees as he bent down to eye level with her, "Understand?"

Casey fought back angry tears, holding Reeco's gaze for as long as she could before she turned her head away, eyes blazing.

The drug lord studied the young woman's silent defiance for a moment. Then he straightened and headed for the door, his cigar leaving a trail of smoke in its wake.

* * *

Brac winced, eyes pressed tightly together as he returned to consciousness. The sunrise blaring through the shutters on his window caused a dull pain to blossom in the left side of his face. Groaning, he shifted underneath the blankets and pushed off from the bed.

"Morning, Sunshine."

Brac twisted around to squint at the petite blonde woman with a short spiky mane leaning against the doorway of his room.

"Rait?" He blinked, disoriented, and she flashed him a wan smile which quickly morphed into a grimace as he turned his face towards her.

"Aich…that's a nasty bruise you got there."

Brac's squint quickly darkened into a glare at the reference to the reddish-green hue glazing his left cheekbone and temple.

"Where is he?" He pushed into a sitting position, swooping his legs over the edge of the bed, a low growl in his throat as he realized he was in his sleep shorts and tank top.

"Left TC hours ago." Rait cocked her head, still wearing a knowing smile which Brac would have found unnerving had he been paying the young woman the attention he was focusing on pulling on his jeans.

"Course he did." Brac all but spat the words out under his breath, and the anger rolling off him in giant tidal waves would have been enough to the sink the Titanic all over again.

Rait's lips pressed into a tight, grinning pout and she pushed off from the wall as Brac stood up, his eyes darting around the room as his hand fell to the empty loops of his jeans.

"Looking for this?" The X6 reached into the pocket of her baggy trousers and pulled out a black leather belt with a heavy silver clasp. She raised her eyebrows knowingly as Brac paused and eyed her stonily.

"Alec said if you sniff _any_ of the coke you stashed in the buckle of this thing," Rait continued as Brac's scowl deepened purposefully and he strode past her and out the door, "we have his official permission to _flog_ you with it."

"We?" Brac retorted over his shoulder as Rait followed him down the hall, heading into the front room. He stopped in his tracks at the sight of a familiar set of worn boots draped over the arm of one of the sofas.

"Yeah. We." Rait stated, grinning triumphantly at Brac as she stood beside him, watching the young man's bruised face hardened impassively as Mole stood up from the couch, token rifle resting against his shoulder.

"How's the head?"

"I don't have time for this." Brac headed for the door, and surprisingly, neither Mole nor Rait made any attempt to stop him.

Physically, at any rate.

"Wouldn't do that, kid." Mole drawled almost lackadaisically, and Brac rolled his eyes as he pulled on his jacket.

"Yeah and why not? My dad teach you that K.O jab?"

"You McDowells…never shy away from a fight, do ya?" The lizard-like nomalie replied casually as he took a seat on the arm of the sofa, "We _could_ slug it out – we'd be at it for a while and knowin' you, you wouldn't go quietly. So," Here he stabbed a finger at Brac, "I'll make you a deal. You stay put till Tank drops by with all latest this evening – and I'll sweet-talk him into sweet-talkin' Alec into letting you back on the case."

"Or I could just walk outta here and you could choose between shooting me in the back or leavin' it alone." Brac seemed less them impressed with rare display of negotiation from Mole.

"Brac, get real." Rait sighed sympathetically as she laid a hand on his shoulder and looked up at the young man with sharp brown eyes, "Even if we let you go, you know your dad. He's got every transgenic in Terminal City on alert. You wouldn't make it out and you know it – not with odds of that magnitude, dude."

"We're more or less here to keep you company." Mole was stalking over to the fridge and fishing out a beer "Alec said you weren't doin' too hot."

"His concern for my welfare is touching." Brac ground out the words in a dry, scorching tone that caused Rait's eyebrows to knit ever so slightly.

"Got somethin' to say?" Brac queried stonily, his head tilting to the side to put the petite blonde woman in full view.

Rait grimaced and batted a hand at his jawline, "Shave and shower. You look like death warmed up and you don't smell a whole lot better."

Brac's eyes glanced skyward in contemptuous anger, but he seemed to have at least accepted the fact that he wasn't going anywhere for the next 24 hours at least.

Keywords: _seemed to._ Rait and Mole may have had a glorious reputation stemming from their Team Chaos feats, but the chances of them guarding a _McDowell_ with anything but total vigilance were 100 to nil.

"Have to agree with the kid on that one, Brac." Mole added his two cents over his shoulder as he pried the bottle top off his beer with a gleaming pair of teeth, "Ain't seen ya lookin' this rough since that cage-fight incident six years back."

"Are you crazy?" Rait, ever the socialite (and the only one who stood a chance at stealing the limelight from the dynamic duo of Brac and Alec at TC's bashes), quickly streamlined the conversation before the topic of Brac leaving could resurface.

"Dude, I still don't know all the details of that thing cuz it was so hush-hush," She extended a hand to catch the pack of M&Ms Mole had tossed at her and nudged a glaring Brac, "But bruising doesn't lie. You were beat to hell!" She argued gleefully as a glimmer of a grin sparked at the corner of Brac's mouth for barely a second, "No seriously, Brac. You were like _seven_ different shades of green, not to mention every other color of the rainbow. And at one point, right when they got you back into TC, one of your eyes was _so_ swollen, it was like not even _there_!"

"Yeah well neither was his ass once Alec's flight got in from Moscow." Mole crooned jibingly, and Brac made a point of bashing shoulders with the nomalie as he headed into the kitchen area, seizing the kettle as he did so.

"Where's Nyx?" Brac queried matter-of-factly, flicking on the switch and rifling through the cupboard above him for the coffee. As he did so, the black T-shirt he was wearing rode up just enough to display a cringe-worthy set of stitches on his abdomen.

"She's at Central tryin' to wring some intel on Max's location outta the dry leads they've managed to pull." Rait responded between mouthfuls of M&Ms, sauntering casually behind the counter and bending down to get a closer look at the ugly stab wound.

Brac's head turned at that precise and he looked down at the small blonde with a questioning expression.

Rait had been faced with the famous McDowell stare-of-dare enough times to remain unfazed. Instead she responded with a perky smile, "Those look like they need cleaning."

Brac blinked at her and returned his attention the boiling kettle in front of him.

"My dad say where he went?"

"Yeah, he went to Sherrie's."

"That was last _night_. Where'd he go this _morning_?" Brac rephrased the question tersely, eyes trained on the steaming mug of coffee in front of him as he stirred a teaspoon in swirls absently.

Rait shrugged, "How should I know? Listen, you wanna watch a movie or something, cuz Luke actually just scored a box set of…"

"Look, Rait." Brac cut her off turgidly as he slapped down the teaspoon and turned to face her, "I get that my dad sent you and Mole here to _babysit_ and all…"

"It's not like that."

"Oh yes it is. When I was younger, it was grounding, now I'm under house arrest – what's it gonna be next, _incarceration_?"

"I dunno. Alec kinda prefers hitting people."

"Noted. Just stay off my back." Brac flashed a polite smile which anyone would have interpreted as dangerous before turning pointedly back to his coffee.

Rait just shrugged once more and shoveled another handful of M&Ms into her mouth.

"Suits me."

* * *

Alec blew out a despondent breath as he stalked down one of Seattle's infamous alleyways, glancing down at the phone in his hand once more to confirm the address.

The chip Sherrie had handed over less then enthusiastically (Alec still had claw marks raking red down his neck – which had given him some rather unwanted insight as to why Brac tolerated a relationship with the otherwise C-rate youngster) had held nothing but an address. Alec had interrogated Sherrie but she had been less then forthcoming, and the information she had coughed up (oh yes, he'd gotten something out of her alright, because when it came to Max, Alec's level of intimidation went up a god few notches) wasn't terribly useful.

It was better then nothing, though. Just being inside the apartment Sherrie and Brac had been sharing for the past few months had leant the scrupulous X5 a good deal of insight. The place was a dump and looked as though it hadn't been cleaned since the pair moved in. But certain items of furniture (like the enormous flat-screen plasma TV) laying strewn around shed light on the fact a considerable amount of money was flowing through somebody's wallet – Brac's, most likely.

Sherrie had been insipidly rude throughout the entire event, yet still somehow hadn't managed to keep a lid on her poorly-bridled lust. Alec would have been grossed out beyond reason had he been too preoccupied with his mission to give it any credence.

The only thing she'd been happy to hand over (volunteered to Alec, even) was Brac's journal – a thick, chaotic scramble of a book which Sherrie had declared (with a malevolent smirk) might be of interest to his father.

Now, as his watch beeped 8 AM, Alec found himself in a crap-hole of an alleyway, stepping over garbage and even a few homeless men passed out under their cardboard boxes. He didn't even notice them.

Casting a cursory glance around the dingy side-road, Alec pocketed his phone and made his way to a pile of empty wooden crates stacked up beside an old dumpster. It was the only object of significance in the alleyway, and as he approached the pile, Alec noticed the grimy barcodes inking the crates' left flanks.

His green eyes narrowed at the numbers lining the wooden box closest to the dumpster.

_331845739494… _

Crouching down, Alec shoved the rotting tarp that covered the crate aside and then froze at the sight that met his eyes.

There, in a rumpled pile, were women's clothes – two sets of trousers and sweaters…and a leather jacket.

Alec stared at the jacket for a full minute before he sank back on his haunches, Max's scent still warm and lingering on the cold leather he clutched in his hands.

A host of emotions coursed through Alec all at once, incredible temperatures jolting through his skin like razorblades – the searing heat of anger warring with the cold fear that the sight of Max's clothes evoked.

Alec swallowed heavily as he fingered the black jeans Max had been wearing and noticed a fraying hole in the thigh, surrounded by a sizeable patch of dried blood. His eyes closed tightly for a moment before he turned his head away, knuckles white on the clothing in his grip.

The persistent pealing of his cell phone brought Alec out of his reverie, and the X5 answered it with a sudden deathly aura of calm (the kind which drove trepidation into anyone who knew Alec as more then an acquaintance).

"Hello."

"Alec," The strong voice all but purred with delight, "it's been a while. A long while. How are these days finding you?"

Alec's jaw clenched as he rose to his feet, "Where are they, Reeco?"

"Where are who?" Reeco replied indolently, and Alec's boot lashed out at a nearby crate before he could stop himself.

"Look this is between you and _Brac_, alright? You can sort it out like _men_…"

"But he's not a _man_, Alec." Reeco stated calmly, "He's an _animal_, whether he was made in a lab or in a bed. It makes no difference to me."

"Think so far _you're_ the one displaying _animalistic_ behavior, dragging an innocent girl into this mix." Alec growled, fighting desperately to keep his anger at bay. He had known Reeco long enough to master constructive communication with the pig-headed Mafioso. Keeping his cool in intense situations had always been Alec's forte.

But not Brac's – which was probably one reason Reeco disliked the boy so much (there was also the fact that Brac was stealing a sizeable portion of the drug lord's business…but knowing Reeco as he did, Alec figured that was a side issue).

Alec had worked alongside Reeco for a stint and also played the nemesis for a while. But the X5's chameleon-like ability to adapt to any situation, his level head and steady, confident poise (as well as his insane gift of being able to reason his way out of almost _anything_) had earned Alec the respect of the drug-peddling community – including Jimmy Reeco.

"Max is _far_ from innocent." Reeco was almost chucking as he crooned the words, "But I don't think I have to tell you that, do I, Alec?"

_If you went to__ any__ lengths to find that out for yourself, I swear to God I'll kill you. _Alec took a deep breath and rubbed his jaw before he swallowed and forced a composed edge back into his voice.

"Doesn't matter. Casey _is_, and keeping her hostage isn't gonna help solve this. She and Brac haven't seen each other for years. You're barkin' up the wrong tree."

"Is that what he told you?" Reeco clucked his tongue, and Alec's eyes sharpened at the words, "Sounds like Junior's been keeping secrets from everybody – including his parents."

Alec forced a tight smirk to retain his calm, "Great. How about we meet up in an hour and you can tell me all about it over a tall, cold one? Nothin' like a little gossip to warm things up, know what I'm sayin'?."

"My thoughts exactly. Although…" Reeco paused contemplatively, "While we're on the subject of my _thoughts_…"

"One hell of a topic." Alec quipped – dry and menacing. He couldn't help it; gruesome mental pictures of the retribution the X5 was aching to dish out were flying in overlapping circles around his head.

"I thought you and your _woman_," The last word was spoken with unmistakable contempt, "had washed your hands off your boy. What made you decide to get involved?"

_Where the hell'd he get __that__ impression?_ Alec wondered in genuine bewilderment, before a realization, bringing with it both injury and grudging admiration, hit him. Of course. Brac must have worked tirelessly to convince the shady underworld networks with whom he was dealing that his high-profile, militantly protective parents had _disowned_ their son for choosing a different path.

It would have been what Alec would have done – Max as well, likely enough. That didn't mean it didn't sting to be slugged with the fact that relatively all Alec's former associates were now under that impression.

Yeah. Alec's pride was gonna be feeling that one for a while. But he would have to suck it up and even play along if he wanted to lure Reeco into the can.

"Alec?" Reeco's voice sliced through his thoughts, "I doubt it was _paternal_ _instinct_. You're too much of a selfish bastard for that." The drug lord meant it as a compliment, and Alec cleared his throat judiciously.

"Yeah well that's the only reason I'm dirtying my hands with Brac's latest pile of crap." Alec tucked a hand into his jacket pocket and glanced around the alley, "If this thing leaks out, the press'll have a field day with it and ITU'll take the heat like it always does."

"And you can't let that happen." Reeco finished, "Look, meet me at the Viper at soon as you can get there. We'll sort all this out and you and Miss Guevara can be on your way once everything is taken care of."

_You mean once Miss Guevara and I agree to stand back and let you dice up our son? Yeah – not gonna happen. _"Fine. Be there as soon as I can. And Reeco?"

"Alec?"

_Before all this is over, I'm kicking your ass till you'll be lucky to have the use of your legs._ A flurry of ominous threats fought to escape Alec's tightly pursed lips, _If you lay __one__ finger on Max or Casey, I'll break all ten of them…slowly._ He rubbed a hand across his face and forced a calming breath, "Never mind."

Reeco wasn't fooled for a moment. "Alec, I have no doubt that you are currently very…distressed by all of these events."

"Who, me?" Alec quipped sardonically, "Naw, I don't get 'distressed'…"

"Just enraged." Reeco replied dryly, "It may have been twenty years ago, but you are just as hot-blooded and impetuous now as you were then. I've been keeping an eye on you."

"Yeah, tabloids…great source of information. Right, I'm headin' off." Alec hung up his cell phone, tapping it against his lips before pocketing it as he attempted to keep his head above thunderclouds which crackled with righteous anger.

It was working for a grand total of ten seconds…then Alec was turning and lashing out at the rust-colored brick wall, his fists slamming into it over and over again – until skin split and blood flowed, brick cracked and dust flew.

Eventually, when his taut muscles were shaking with exertion, Alec slammed both fists against the wall and rested his forehead on the cold brick surface, his back heaving with deep breaths.

"Need any help?"

Alec cast a sideways glance at the old, bearded man standing in the alleyway, clad a long, tattered coat and a scruffy tabby cat. The man's slanted eyes were narrowed into cautious slits as his homeless friends hovered anxiously behind him, roused from their sleep by Alec's rage blackout.

The X5, still breathing deeply for composure's sake, pushed back from the wall and bent down, scooping up Max and Casey's clothes before stalking quickly back the way he had come.

* * *

"Okay, so _please_ tell me this something big." Nyx begged, swiveling in her chair to face the flat screen where Logan's face appeared.

"Could be. You and Brac dug deep with this Reeco guy, but there were some dregs at the bottom of the barrel I managed to scrape out which I think might be hot leads." Logan fumbled with some papers at his desk, "Seems like Reeco was part of a company called Rhino Technology back in the '20s – some kind of advancement development group who headed up think tanks for larger shark pools."

"Dude, could you be any vaguer?" Nyx sighed and rubbed her forehead before running her gloved fingers through her hair and resting her elbows on the desk. She had a throbbing headache – it was rare and it was worrying.

She was just glad it had cropped up after she and Alec had parted ways – Nyx, unlike her brother, had never been very successful at cloaking illness from her parents.

"Uh well there wasn't a whole lot for me to work with." Logan seemed to be dealing with Nyx's waning tolerance in his stride (it wasn't as though the man hadn't spent years working with Max, for whom patience was a luxury).

"But I did get in touch with a former employee who's a friend of one of my contacts," He continued, "And she was surprisingly willing to cough up intel on the company's inner mechanisms."

"And?" Nyx raised her eyebrows and snatched the coffee that Luke was holding out to her.

"Well seems they were operating an underground association to provide bad guys like Reeco with superior protection." Logan took off his glasses and closed his eyes once, tightly, evidently trying to stave off the sleep he had passed up in favor of obtaining the current information, "Word on the street was they were in talks with other groups similar to themselves to negotiate a joint project know as Adventum Secondus."

Nyx's nose crinkled up along with her eyebrows as she took a sip of her coffee, "Meaning what?"

"It's Latin for 'the second coming'." Logan sighed and slapped the papers he'd been holding onto his desk, "Basically, the project was a mishmash of ideas and information all being compiled for one common purpose," His eyes grew serious, "the reincarnation of Manticore."

Nyx's eyes narrowed and she pulled in her lips for a moment before flicking her tongue over them. "Well that'd suck. How come it didn't go down?"

Logan shrugged, "One too many failed experiments, it seems. Investors starting pulling their funding and from there it went downhill, until only a handful of mob lords were still in for the haul."

"So Reeco's still trying to breed his own little kingdom of genetic superiors?" Nyx rubbed at the back of her neck in an attempt to iron out a kink in her shoulder tendon.

"Not according to my source." Logan admitted, "She told me Rhino was disbanded and A.S was put on indefinite hiatus. Last she heard, Reeco was feeding his assets into selective breeding as a plan B for his super-army."

"That creepo is one messed-up mother." Nyx grumbled as she took another swig of her coffee. "You know, what I wanna figure out is why Brac got involved with all of this in the first place. I mean, he walked a straight line away from his coke habit when he was thirteen. I dunno why he'd be this reckless unless there was a damn good reason for it."

"Yeah well I have a few ideas myself on that one." Logan responded, "Although I think the only way we're going to find out the truth is by asking Brac."

Nyx rolled her eyes, "Have you tried extracting information from that guy when he doesn't wanna own? It's like pulling teeth! Dad's the only one with an exemplary track record on _that_ one."

"Well then we'll just have to get Alec to step up to the plate." The older man half-smirked at the concept, and Nyx tucked her hair behind her ears with another eye-roll.

"Yeah, 'cept he skipped TC last night to blaze the trail for my mom."

"Max isn't back yet?" Logan's eyebrows narrowed, and Nyx shook her head dismally.

"Dad thinks Reeco's got her." She shrugged, evidently conjuring up a brave front, "It's the only logical explanation, I guess. Just makes things that much more sticky though."

Logan leant back in his chair, face a picture of deep contemplation, "Huh."

Nyx shifted awkwardly in her chair. Her head was pounding, her nerves were threadbare and all she wanted to do was pummel someone – or break down crying…or both. But as was typical of the McDowell clan, giving way to what she wanted was the furthest thing from Nyx's mind just then.

"Anyway, we need to come up with what to do from here." She asserted, "Dad and Brac had a talk before he left. I'll give him a ring, see if he's got anything for us."

Logan nodded and wiped a hand across his face, "You could always just ask Brac."

Nyx smiled tightly, "I'd rather sell my nipples to a body piercing apprentice."

Logan grimaced violently, evidently equally disturbed by the thought of Nyx's nipples as he was by the concept she suggested.

"Got the picture?" Nyx grinned wider with a raise of her eyebrows, and Logan nodded.

"Wish I didn't, but yeah I think it's vivid enough. Mind if I give it a go though?"

One of Nyx's eyebrows arched, "You mean the nipple piercing?"

"Talking to Brac." Logan responded shortly, and Nyx scoffed at him as she downed the rest of her coffee in one swig.

"You can try. And don't gimme that tone, okay? I didn't earn it."

"Tone?" Logan queried with a curious raise of his eyebrows.

She rolled her eyes and set her cup on the desk, "You know, that condescending/irritated thingy you sometimes do when you're talking with my dad?"

"Hey that's not fair." Logan countered, "I wield it with your mother just as impartially."

"Well fine. I just don't appreciate it right now." Nyx huffed, and Logan laughed.

"And your parents ever do?"

"Yeah I think they find it kinda…endearing?" She suggested with a squint and a smirk similar to her mother's, and Logan just shook his head.

"I gotta go. Let me know when you get word on Max."

"Let _me_ know if my dad buzzes you for anything. He's ignoring all my phone calls."

Logan had to restrain a brief smirk at that one, "Well you do take after Max in regards to her moments of OCD."

"Bye, Logan!" Nyx stated vigorously as she terminated the call, pushing back her chair and rolling her head back with closed eyes as a hand cupped across her temple.

_Fucking migraines. _


	8. Chapter 8

_**Back with another chapter. I almost swore the whole thing off as a dud but then the muse started to shimmy and I couldn't stop the beat *grin*. It's kind of a patchwork quilt of a chapter, but hey, it works (it moved my furniture anyway). Be cool, readers mine. And I know I sound like a nagging parent, but remember to review when you're done!**_

_**-- Tyler**_

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Alec cast a disdainful glance at the pair of men sidling up to him as he stepped into the staff wing of The Viper.

"Alec?" An imposing, bulky Oriental man with a balding skull and long, shimmering hair squinted. "That you, man?"

Alec, hands dug into his pockets to cloak the tight clenching of his fists, rolled his head back and sighed deeply, "Still wearin' those disposable lenses, Chino, I take it?"

The man's smirk widened and he clapped a hand heavily on Alec's back, "Good to see you again, man. How's the wife?"

"Still non-existent, Chino. Don't know how many times I gotta say it; I'm still the same old charming bachelor." Alec spread his arms and then flinched like steel as Chino's compadre took the opportunity to check him for weapons.

Chino snorted, "You're in denial, is what you are. Hey Al, _Al_!" He waved a hand at the other man, who froze in his tracks halfway down Alec's jean legs, "Back up off him, alright? This guy's clear. I'll take him to see the boss."

'Al' scowled but stepped away from Alec, casting him suspicious glances as Chino placed a hand on the X5s back and led him down the hall.

"Reeco said you were gonna show, but I wasn't sure if he was right or just trippin' out." Chino's voice was husky from a throat injury he had sustained many years ago (the broad scar streaking his neck gave credence to it). He was a hardened character who had earned his nickname from the rough streets of the Californian state of his youth.

Although his line of work had never varied from the hard-line career of the hired hand, Chino had a large heart to go with his mean right hook, and had subsequently managed to push, pull and shove his way into Alec's good graces during the transgenic's partnership with Reeco.

"Yeah well…he said there was some black label in the bargain, and you know me, man. Can't pass up a swig o' JD." Alec sniffed and brushed his thumb across the tip of his nose as they strode down the seedy corridor.

"That's cute. What happened to your hand?" Chino raised an eyebrow at the dried blood crusting out from the biker gloves Alec was wearing (which successfully the total mess his knuckles had become).

"Ah I got a mouthy kid." Alec quipped carelessly as they paused outside Reeco's doorway and Chino paused and turned to face him.

"That's _not_ cute," Chino squinted before a slow grin overtook half his mouth, "Mouthy he may be, but other then that, Brac's a helluva kid."

Alec's face flickered with confusion, "Wait, you know him?"

Chino's eyebrow arched upwards to the tune of 'oh come on'.

"Right, of course you do." Alec nodded with a slight smile that suggested he was less then pleased and looked away, prompting Chino to narrow his eyes.

"What's goin' on with you, McDowell? I mean, I know you and your missus are two firebrands in a blazer, but I didn't expect you to let your son run headlong into this shit-hole of a life just cuz the kid up and cut the apron strings."

_Brac, remind me to give you a matching bruise on the other side of your face once all this is over_. Alec tilted up his chin caustically, "Reeco in or not?"

Chino glared at him disapprovingly before rapping on the door and waiting for the token response. Alec remained stone-faced as his former acquaintance pushed open the door and motioned for him to step through it.

The moment he set eyes on the elegant older man seated in a reclining chair, cigar smoke wafting up from it in token trails, Alec's mind was focused on nothing else. His jaw set itself tightly and the brief 'I'm here' eyebrow-raise-smirk he threw out for appearance's sake held a veritable edge of raw anger.

"Alec." Reeco smiled and waved a hand in his direction as Chino shut the door behind the two, leaving them alone in the room (a bold move on Reeco's part, Alec noted duly). "Have a seat." The drug lord motioned to the sofa opposite him, and Alec moved to do so as Reeco leant forward and filled a glass with some inviting-looking whiskey.

"Drink?"

"Here for the beer." Alec responded glibly as he leant back, sprawling one across the sofa top and picking up his glass with his free hand. "Place ain't changed much." He commented as he nodded at the shabby interior of the room, and Reeco raised an eyebrow.

"I'll tell you what hasn't changed. You." He stabbed his cigar in Alec's direction, "At all. How on earth do you do it, Alec? You must be pushing forty around now, am I correct?"

Alec spread his arms with a shrug, "What can I say? A beer a day, dude."

Crow's feet appeared by Reeco's eyes, "Phenomenal. So," He snapped his fingers, "I suppose it's down to business then? Though I must say, I'm rather enjoying your company. It's been too long, Alec. Seattle's narcotics trade has missed you sorely."

Alec's face briefly adopted a farcical smile, "Yeah well. When you're popular."

"Your _son_ is 'popular'." Reeco retorted sharply, never missing a beat, "_You_ were a _sensation_. The two are not conjoined twins in every dealer's case, Alec."

_Unbelievable. The bastard's sales-pitching me._ Alec resisted the urge to let out a scoff of disbelief, _He's got my wife and an innocent young girl locked up and Brac's liver on his top ten list of birthday wishes, and he's tryin' to sweet-talk me._

Reeco's dark eyebrows created a ripple of wrinkles in forehead, and as if on cue he replied, "Don't mistake me, Alec. I would never coax you back into play. The game's a slice of cake for my business now you're out of the picture."

"Well I'm glad we cleared the air on that one." Alec stated, knocking his whiskey back in one shot before placing the glass on the table with enough force to make Reeco's eyes drop to it momentarily.

"So now that's outta the way," Alec leant forward and his face became overcast with a nondescript shadow (one which Reeco could read perfectly), "I'd like my woman back, if that's okay with you."

"In time." Reeco's cold reply indicated he had also tossed pleasantries to the wind in favor of schematics, "First, I want _Brac_ – which means you'll have to dig him out of whatever bomb shelter you've no doubt boarded him up in."

"Ugh god," Alec rolled his eyes, "Why is everyone always hyping about that kid? I mean, I know Max 'n I make'em pretty, but seriously, the attitude? Outbalances _any_ other qualities, lemme tell you that straight up."

Reeco titled his head to the side and took a drag of his cigar, "Do you smoke, Alec?"

_Changing the subject on me? Nice freaking try._ Alec leant back in his seat and placed a boot on the table laconically, "Not since the missus told me she didn't wanna be sucking face with an oxygen mask in her old age."

"Well your _son_ smokes." Reeco raised his eyebrows in mock-surprise, and Alec resisted the urge to flick the boot he was resting on the table straight into the man's head. He'd feel _that_ one for a week.

"Smokes, drinks, shoots up, snorts back…" Reeco stubbed the last glowing embers of his cigar into the ashtray on the table, eyes trained Alec as he did so. "The fact is, Brac needs the product he sells just as badly as his customers. That's a sign of weakness, Alec...a glitch in the Matrix of narcotic dealing if you catch my drift."

"What, you worried about him makin' you look bad?" Alec squinted dryly, "Cuz there ain't much danger of _that_, pal."

"I'm not surprised Brac hasn't told you why I _really_ want a lengthy _conversation_ with him." Reeco's voice suddenly deepened and took on a hissing, whispery sort of tone as he leant forward and pinned Alec with one of his rare (and legendary) glares. "He was probably too busy playing the snot-nosed little _boy_ in need of father's _rescue_ at the time."

"Don't get me wrong; Brac _fits_ those shoes more often then not, but damned if he _wears'em_." Alec responded evenly, and Reeco placed both hands on the table as he stood up ominously.

"Brac had _nothing_ to fear from me until he stabbed me in the _back_, something that is _never_ a good idea on the _best_ of days!"

"Lemme guess, he screwed your wife?" Alec raised an eyebrow and then nodded to himself, "Ohh wait – no, just your _niece_, my mistake…"

Reeco;s fist slammed onto the table and Alec had to stave off feelings of genuine amazement at how deeply under the suave, unaffected drug lord's skin Alec's wild-child boy had managed to get.

Whatever Brac had done, it was apparently one of his grandest screw-ups ever – which in the kid's mind, was also probably one of his most 'elaborate and brilliant schemes' _ever_ (Alec was going to kick his ass ….and then do it a second time just for good measure…and then _seriously_ chain him to a bed in the basement if Brac gave him a _smidgeon_ of attitude after that).

"Your boy was left to play on the other side of the sandbox with no trouble from my crowd until he engineered a disastrous misunderstanding between my firm and its biggest client!" Reeco explained in a harsh tone of voice and to the drug lord's fury, Alec's expression of response suggested that Reeco's statement had been entirely expected.

"It was the _Linux_ contract, Alec!" Reeco hissed, and the trivial facial shrug the X5 had been wearing waned somewhat at those words, "This isn't just the school board complaining about your son shredding toilet paper in the hallways…"

"I'm _aware_ of that." Alec spelled it out with just a little more bite then was fitting for his unaffected air.

"Are you?" Reeco's eyebrows arched ominously.

"You bet your ass I am," Alec pushed off from the sofa and stood up to meet Reeco's eyes with his own head-on, "Because lemme tell you, if your reasons for keepin' Max and Casey hostage weren't _damn_ good," here his voice rose in pitch and intensity, "you'd already be dead."

Reeco caught the words with a tilt of his head, his lips pressing closed tightly as Alec, cursing inwardly at the tactical error that had resulted in losing his cool, quickly regained composure, rested his hands on the table and leant forward.

"So while we're layin' it all out here, lemme set a few things flat for ya." Alec raised his eyebrows and flashed Reeco a dry grin which was all business, "You're not takin' Brac down to that basement of yours. I remember what goes on in there."

Reeco smiled tightly, "The basement was never mentioned…"

"Yeah you know what else was never mentioned? A truce." Alec stated, and Reeco's face twisted in skepticism.

"A truce?"

"Yeah you know, kinda like a bargain?"

"A bargain." Reeco's nose crinkled up, and Alec nodded sardonically.

"Somethin' to the tune of you lettin' Brac walk on this one and me getting you back your Linux contract…"

"That is _not_ a sufficient trade." Reeco needled flatly as he kept his eyes on Alec and his hands in his pockets.

"I wasn't done." Alec huffed in what was almost offence at the jab at his bargaining skills, "In exchange for letting Max, Casey _and_ Brac go free, you'd get Brac's entire drug kingdom, everything he's built up, dragged out or stolen from you since the day he left TC." He held up a hand, "Honest to god. And you know you want it, baby."

Reeco's mouth twitched, "And if I think it _still_ isn't a sufficient trade?"

Alec shrugged, "Then not only would you be _greedy_, you'd be _stupid_." The sharp look his eyes took on as they met Reeco's told the drug lord every possible form of answer to his question, "And that ain't something you're famous for, _unlike_ my son. Now do we have a freaking deal?"

"Well I don't know, Alec." Reeco responded as he reached into his jacket pocket and produced another cigar, "You see, I'm just not _satisfied_ with the way you're handling all of this right now."

Alec's eyes went wide with confusion and darted around the room for a minute, "What're you expecting? Waterworks, dramatized pleading…"

"A kick to the head?" Reeco raised his eyebrows knowingly, and Alec's face twisted in disbelief.

"Please." _I'd never deprive you of the opportunity to be __conscious__ during payback. _

"I kidnapped your wife." The Russian reminded Alec staunchly, "I abducted Miss Trendon, one of your son's ex-girlfriends and, I believe, a personal family friend on the side. And now I'm asking you to hand over your son, presumably so I can feed him his liver. Doesn't this _bother_ you, Alec?"

"Is that what all of this has been about?" Alec queried, the strain to the even edge in his voice and the unfazed expression on his face implying festering anger just beneath the surface, "Pissing me off? Because seriously, Reeco, I didn't think you'd play that dirty just to see my sexy, angry side."

"No that is _not_ what all of this has been about." Reeco assured the X5 as he reclined back into his seat and fixed him with a piercing gaze, "I was merely curious."

"Curiosity killed the cat." Alec chirped with a smile that nobody could interpret as friendly. "Think that's how the saying goes anyway, I dunno, Max is the one with all the anecdotes…"

"And you're the one with a handle on your son." Reeco took a puff on his cigar as he studied Alec intently, "I want to meet with him, Alec. Just a talk, I promise you, that's all. Then he can walk."

"Casey and Max?"

"Obviously they would be released as soon as the meeting has taken place."

Alec frowned as he took his seat once more and rubbed at his chin briefly. He hadn't expected Reeco to give that easily – nor had he banked on the drug lord vesting such a personal interest in the case (_or_ Alec's reaction – yeah, the X5 still owed the guy a giant slug in the gut, but reckoned prison was a more appropriate – and _mature_ – form of retribution). He hadn't been wrong in his assumption that Max's kidnap had more underlying reasons for its occurrence then the mere case of Brac and Reeco's feud. In fact, the drug lord's persistent questioning regarding Alec's reaction to the incident suggested another possible (and highly unsettling) motive.

It was the one factor Alec had somehow left out of the equation – his own history with Jimmy Reeco.

"This…meeting?" Alec's brow crinkled upwards doubtfully, and Reeco arched one of his own in response, "I'm gonna need to moderate."

The older man snorted jovially, "This isn't _ITU_, McDowell."

"Yeah I got that." Alec stated evenly, leaning forward ever so slightly, "You think I'd be worried if this was a meeting between _transgenics_?"

Reeco considered those words carefully as he rolled his cigar between his fingers. "Fine." He said after a minute, "I will say this for myself though. I have no intention of inflicting any _damage_ on your son. To be given the impression you assume otherwise is an affront to my good name…"

"Oh gimme a break." Alec retorted, and Reeco's eyes sharpened lethally at the words (not that Alec noticed or cared). "You wanna know the street cred your 'good name's' got running? I can spell it out for you…"

"I said you could attend the meeting." Reeco snapped his fingers at the door, and only a moment later, Chino was standing outside it, "I'm a man of my word." He watched as Alec, wearing an unreadable yet stony expression, stood up from the sofa, "Here, tonight at seven PM. Just me, you and Brac. Once that's taken care of, you can have your women back and spend a cozy Christmas Eve in the bowels of your transgenic _lair_ for all I am concerned."

Alec merely nodded coolly at the man before he turned and exited the room, brushing past Chino as he did so.

The conversation had been over before it had even begun.

* * *

Max jumped awake with a start, blinking away sleep with a dreadful foreboding on the back of her neck that she had no recollection of nodding off whatsoever.

She scooted back into a sitting position against the bars and winced as it put pressure on her injured leg. It was then that she noticed a barely visible set of pinpricks on the inside of her right forearm.

_What the hell?_ Max fought the urge to panic, swallowing back any trepidation in favor of disgust. _Freako bastards._ She felt the thick dry blanket oppressing her mouth and cleared her throat.

"Hey!" The call was aimed at nobody in particular – her room was empty and there was no sign of corporeal surveillance, "Can I get some water in here?"

It was a good long while before a small Eastern-European girl, clad in casual garb but totting a handgun (and, Max noted with relief, a paper cup) stepped tentatively through the door.

"Can I get that super-sized?" Max eyed the girl up and down as she bent down and placed the cup on the floor beside the X5, "Actually on second thoughts, make that an order for a straw. Cuz uh…I'm a little tied up at the moment."

The girl, her face stern but younger then her somber air let on (she seemed to be in her late teens), merely picked up the cup once more and held it out to Max.

"Oh come on." Max grumbled, "Are you serious?"

The girl raised her eyebrows severely, and Max rolled her dark chocolate orbs at the silent treatment.

"You know what, I didn't even let my _boyfriend_ feed me when I two broken arms and a fractured hip palate."

Okay, so it wasn't an entirely accurate statement. Max _had_ broken an elbow and the tibia on both arms after falling from a seven-story window – well…she'd been _kicked_, but that was beside the point. And anyway, she _had_ refused to be 'spoonfed' by anybody (Alec included)…until he'd threatened her with no sex for a year.

Yeah. That had had the potential to turn into a _real_ interesting bet, until Alec had cheated by bringing Nyx into the ward and siccing her seven year-old waterwork routine on Max ('_Please_ eat, Mommy. If you die, _I'll_ die! I _can't_ live without you, Mommy, I can't, I can't, I can't!')

Didn't Max still owe Alec vindicating retribution for that particular below-the-belter? She'd rain-check on it, but it was _so_ in the works.

"Fine." Max conceded defeat as the girl leant forward to press the cup to her lips. The water, cold and refreshing, felt like heaven on Max's parched tongue and soothed her dehydrated body. She savored every gulp and let out a sigh of relief as she leant back against the bars and felt the liquid rejuvenate her strength.

"You know I thought for a minute your boss was plannin' on sweating me out." Max arched her back as much her restraints afforded and then glanced over at the girl, who was casting her a muted glanced which led Max to an uncomfortable realization.

"Thanks." She offered cautiously as her eyes trailed to the ground, "For the water, I mean. Promise I won't let slip."

Her mysterious visitor merely nodded before heading quickly out of the room.

"Hey," Max called out, and the young girl froze in her tracks but didn't turn around.

"I don't wanna push my luck right now, but…if you see my friend, you know, the other girl they've got stowed here somewhere," Max knew it was a long shot, but she had to take it, "could you just…make sure she's okay?"

Again, her words were met with an auspicious silence as the girl hastily fled the room, closing the door quietly behind her and sealing Max in her suffocating tomb of confinement once more.

Max watched the door warily for a moment, then her small fists pressed between the bars behind her back, moving up and down in a determined pace to grate the chain of her handcuffs against the rough surface of the cage's bars. A small groove in the iron suggested the X5 had been it at for quite some time.

She was _so_ ditching this place.

* * *

"This is fucking crazy! We shoulda heard from them by now." Brac had been pacing the hallway for the fifteen minutes leading up to midday, and was now directing the full throttle of his ire at Rait (Mole had stepped out for a smoke after being reminded by Rait that Max still skewered anybody who stank up the air in her apartment).

"You know how this stuff goes, Brac. Just gotta give it time, is all." Rait stood leaning against the wall, one leg propped up against the opposite surface as she filed a set of nails – the corner of her eye taking in Brac's rapidly deteriorating condition with veiled alarm.

He was paler then he had been on waking up, and the red circles underneath his eyes had deepened somewhat to accentuate the bleary, bloodshot green that surrounded sharp pupils.

Brac had also begun to shake more noticeably. He was still refusing food of any sort (although Rait had managed to get the worringly lean transgenic to pick at the array of junk food she'd kept in steady supply).

Rait had no experience in dealing with a withdrawal victim to date, and she would have found Brac's sporadic anxiety and sudden bursts of temper unsettling had Alec not stalled on his crucial mission to sit the X6 down and take her step-by-step through the process she'd be assisting.

The thing that had stuck most in Rait's mind (and was the primary source of her patience) was Alec's statement as he'd gotten up to leave.

"_When he wakes up, he'll be pissed beyond reason, which is probably gonna add to the crisis. Just stay cool, keep him busy with somethin', I dunno, use your creativity." His game face had waned for a moment and for a split second, the X5 commander in front of Rait transition into a visibly concerned parent, "Just…take care of him for me, okay, Rait?"_

_Fine, Alec,_ The young woman thought decisively, _I'll take care of him. But I suck at doing things your way, so I'm just gonna have to try doing them __my__ way. _

"Screw this." Rait pushed away from the wall and walked past Brac into his bedroom, and his eyes narrowed sharply as he followed.

"What are you doing?" It was a barked order to exit his bedroom at once.

"I'm bored." She announced matter-of-factly, throwing the rumpled blankets over Brac's bed and plopping herself down on it, "You wanna have sex?"

If Brac was thrown (and Rait was one of the few people who could topple his and Alec's equilibrium), the blank expression he tossed her gave no evidence of the fact.

"No. Thank you."

"Just thought I'd ask." Rait shrugged as she lay on her stomach, and she noticed with girlish satisfaction that Brac's eyes fell to the cleavage of her gray, off-the-shoulder shirt, "Mole's hogging the tube and information lines seem stagnant for right now, so I figured…"

"I get it." Brac responded tightly as he turned to rummage through his drawers, and Rait cackled inwardly at the discomfort her rather forward suggestion had appeared to cause the young man.

"So then what're we gonna do?" She rolled onto her back and stretched her arms overhead, and this time her shirt rode up to reveal a tight, cream-colored stomach pock-marked with a smiley-faced navel stud, "Cuz I gotta tell ya, all work and no play makes me dull, but none of either? I start throwing punches."

"That so." It was Brac (and Alec's) customary response to a statement which they had entirely ignored. Rait rolled her eyes.

"Hey there's an idea." She sat up suddenly and scratched at the back of her short blonde mop with bright eyes, "We could spar! I'm betting you know all those trick maneuvers Max and Alec ride around to keep an edge on the other X5s."

"Some of them." Brac's reply actually held a faint edge of smugness as he examined a relic from his youth and kept his back turned to Rait. "And they don't cloak'em for any sort of 'edge'. They just don't bother teaching people."

"Except you and Nyxie." Rait countered with a grin as she stood up, and Brac stiffened as the X6 draped her arms across his shoulders from behind and propped up on her tiptoes to talk into his ear.

"C'mon, Brac. What can it hurt?"

He snorted at that one, "Depends whose maneuvers we're talking about." He removed Rait's hands from his shoulders and stalked to his backpack on the floor, "With Mom, you're lookin' at a lot of facial bruising. With Dad, it's a set of cracked ribs and a lotta kneecap physio."

"Oh cut it out, come on." Rait huffed indignantly, bouncing over to step between Brac and his bag with her arms folded, "Look, you're gonna wear a rut in the floor with all your pacing if you don't get your aggression out somehow."

"Yeah?" He raised his eyebrows, "And who's gonna help me do that - _you_?" He rolled his eyes as Rait opened her arms with a smile, "Uh huh. Cuz _that'll_ go down well in getting Tanker to help me with the case – you with a face full of bruises…"

"Hey!" Rait protested, slamming a fist into Brac's shoulder, only to have him laugh openly at the jab, "Don't go underestimating me, Hotshot – I could have you on your back like _that_!" She snapped her fingers together.

"And she's modest too." Brac's statement (and accompanying smile) dripped with acid.

"Well then…" The X5 raised her eyebrows and spread her hands, "Why don't we just have sex? I mean, it's not like it's a big deal…"

"Rait, look." Brac sighed and ran a trembling hand through his hair, "It's not a good idea, okay? You don't wanna get involved with somebody like me…"

She scoffed, "Please, it's just sex."

"Look, I'm a walking _vortex_" Brac's voice rose slightly and he leant forward over the small blonde woman to emphasize his point, "of trouble and…and calamity and all things rated R, alright?"

"Not so loud." Rait complained jovially, all the while taking in Brac's barely-lidded anguish with a sense of helplessness.

"I'm just saying, alright, I…I…I think you should…" He waved a hand in the air and shut his eyes as though it would clear his head, "back off from me, is all, okay? I know you're just trying to help, but…"

"But what, Brac?" Rait interrupted tersely, and he paused to glanced from her petite frame to the wall at a loss, "You think you're a special step up from all the crap I've had in life so far? Get real." She eyed him up and down with a mixture of contempt and lust, "So you've got issues. So has everyone, I mean it's a drop in the bucket to those of us who were actually born and raised at Manticore."

"What are you talking about?" Brac inhaled deeply as he rubbed at his sore eyes, and Rait's lips pressed tightly along with her eyebrow raise as she sat back down on Bracs' bed.

"I'm talking about real issues, Brac." She kept her eyes, now wide with sobriety as they swallowed his form whole, "I mean, you never wondered why Max and Alec take so much in their stride?" Here Brac's face twisted into a grimace of disagreement, "No really, stop and think about it, Brac. You and Nyxie pulled some pretty wild stunts over the years, things that would make your average adolescent nowadays blush to consider. Doesn't it make you wonder why your parents went so easy on you…"

"They did not 'go easy' on us…"

"Oh really? Cuz last I checked, there were never any month-long groundings..."

"Actually there were _three_."

"Whatever. There _weren't_ any mandatory therapy sessions or brat camp leaflets in the mix while you were growing up!" Rait raised her eyebrows, "And if you want to talk about harsh environments for formative years, you should take a look at Manticore! You know they used to line us up and randomly choose one of our unit to beat the crap out of for no apparent reason? They called it a lesson in self-restraint and said if one of us moved a toe out of line, we'd all get the same treatment."

Brac was ingesting her words silently and Rait sighed and leant back on her palms.

"Look, I'm not saying you haven't had it tough, alright? Or that you're not that whole…" She waved her hand, "Walking vortex thing. Just, you don't have to let stuff like this ride all over you, or feel you have to push everyone away in case we get caught in the crossfire." Rait watched with sincere empathy radiating from her eyes as Brac closed his eyes and turned his face away from her, "People care about you, Brac. Me, your mom, your dad, Nyxie, hell even Mole. And no matter how often you screw up, we're always gonna be there to pull you through it. I think we've proven that by now, don't you?"

His shoulders were squared and his back was turned to her now, and Rait stood up from the bed and ducked around him, moving into the small space between Brac and the desk. His eyes were as hard as the steel in his face, and they watched Rait stonily as she used her hands to come to a sitting position on top of the desk and lean back slightly to look him in the eye.

"So whaddya say?" Her tongue flicked briefly across her lips and her eyes, large and soft and round, stared into his enticingly, "No strings, no sacrifices," She reached out a hand to tug ever so slightly on the belt loop of Brac's jeans, "Just sex."

Brac's jaw twitched and he stared intently at Rait for a minute. Neither spoke. It was his move next and both transgenics were fully aware of that.

Finally his hand dropped to the slender fingers Rait had hooked onto his jeans, his green eyes never leaving hers as he gripped it tight and moved it purposefully back to the desk.

Rait's face remained impassive.

"Whatever. Offer stands."

"Fuck you." Brac stated, finality and resentment seeping through the cracks in his stone-faced façade.

"Oh you've changed you're mind?" She raised an eyebrow coolly, and then flinched slightly as Brac slammed a hand against the wall over her shoulder.

"I know what you're doing." He whispered through clenched teeth, face barely an inch from her own, "Like father like son, is that what you figured?"

"What's that supposed to mean exactly?" Rait's spine had straightened and her small shoulders were beginning to thrust backwards slightly at the potential lash at Alec.

"You think just because my _dad_ allows himself to be manipulated by every exceptional _skirt_ that crosses his path, it's gonna be the same with me?" Brac demanded, "Just because I'm a _guy_, it means you can lead my around by the _crotch_, is that it?"

Rait rolled her eyes with a longsuffering sigh, "Whatever, Brac." She moved to stand but he slammed his hand against the wall with a painful-sounding slap that caused Rait's grip on the desk to tighten.

"Dude, chill out."

"I'm so fucking _sick_ of women thinking they can _manipulate_ me into their way of thinking by pulling out the _estrogen_." Brac's tone and face were of that deadly calm he and Alec both shared so strongly, and Rait glanced down briefly to note that his trembling had suddenly begun to worsen.

"Is that what this is about, Brac?" Rait met his gaze with her own, "Or should I say is that _who_ this is about?"

"What do you mean?"

"Linda Sandburg." Rait jumped down from the desk and kept her chin tilting upwards to hold Brac's eyes severely, "Are we _still_ having to clean up her mess seven years after she's gone? I mean, Jesus, Brac, when are you going to…" Rait hadn't gotten the rest of her sentence out before Brac's hands were gripping her shoulders and shoving her back onto the desk.

"Don't even _start_ about Linda, okay? You _never_ even knew her, you have _no_ idea what…"

"No I _didn't_ know her, Brac, but I along with _everybody_ else who cares about you am still picking up the fucking pieces!" Rait finally lost her temper and began to raise her voice, slamming her fist onto the desk in frustration before shoving Brac in the chest and pushing back into a standing position, "And this isn't just about Linda, is it? It's Bren as well, right? I mean,, we all know your parents thought she might've screwed with something more then just your head…"

"What?" Brac's face became a picture of outraged disgust and hurt, "They said that?"

"Doesn't matter what they said!" Rait snapped, pushing the issue aside as she continued, "What about Sherrie? Doesn't she come under this classification? Casey too maybe, in her own way?"

"Alright, you know what?" Brac's fists balled up by his sides and his eyes became narrow and dangerous as he closed one of the two inches of space between him and Rait, "That's enough, Rait. Just shut up and walk away from me…now."

She glared at him, "Can't do that, Brac."

"Get the fuck out of my house!" He screamed as he stabbed a finger at the doorway, "Get out, goddamn it, or I'll drag you out. And take Mole with you for god's fucking sake." Brac hissed as he shoved past the girl and stormed into the living room.

"Where're you gonna go, Brac?" Rait called after him as Brac pulled on his coat, "You won't make it outta Terminal City, not with the vanguard of sentinels Alec's got on the lurk for your ass."

"I'll find a way out." Brac stated matter-of-factly, feeling around the inside of his jacket and chewing at his cheeks in confirmation.

"Yeah like how, non-motorized aviation?" Rait demanded in complete confusion as she kept step with the roundabout trek Brac was gradually making to the door.

"Nineteen years sneaking round TC, I think I got the ins and outs a little more solid then my old man." Brac retorted as he began to pull the door open, only to have Rait slam a hand on it and stop the action flat.

"Brac this is ridiculous. Think about it; you don't even have a plan!"

"Reeco's head on a pike, sounds like some semblance of a goal." He stated icily as he moved to open the door once more, but Rait positioned herself between him and his getaway.

"And what's that gonna accomplish, huh? Besides feeding your need for vengeance for a moment, all that's gonna do is land you in the can!" Rait insisted, "And who's to say you'll find Casey and Max before Reeco's goons knock them off in payback? Who's to say Alec will?"

He sighed and rolled his eyes, "Just get out of my way, Rait…"

"No." She replied flatly, her tone and body language hard and uncompromising, "You're not doing this."

He raised an eyebrow, "You know what? Fine." The last word hadn't even left his lips before his hands were moving up to seize hold of Rait's biceps.

She reacted instantly, reflexes kicking into gear as her fists leapt up between Brac's forearms, wrenching his arms apart and gripping his wrists to pull his torso down to the knee she drove into his solar plexus.

Brac doubled over heavily from the knee-jab and actually stumbled away, prompting Rait to cover her mouth in horror.

"Oh my god – your stitches. Brac, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to…"

"Just shut your mouth and put up your fists." His voice held a razor-sharp edge as he advanced on Rait with eyes that were ablaze with anticipation…and fire.

She shook her head at him in genuine distress, "Brac, no. Not like this, come on."

He ignored her, and in one, lightening fast move, Brac was grabbing Rait's arm and jerking it across her chest and then sharply down fast enough to double her over to the side. His other hand clamped around her opposite shoulder and yanked backwards, sending Rait crashing to the floor as her balance failed.

She landed hard on her back and had barely hit the floor when Brac's boot cracked against her rib cage repeatedly. Rait rolled with the kicks and landed on her stomach, pushing her palms into the ground and scissoring out her legs in a blurring movement of speed that took out Brac's supporting leg and sent him sprawling onto his back.

Rait kick-flipped onto her feet then leapt backwards to avoid the boot was Brac was swinging at her from his position on the ground.

"Knock it _off_!" She yelled pleadingly, noting the way Brac's stance favored his abdomen protectively and sensing the amount of physical exertion from the fight was already taking a toll on Brac's withdrawal-ravaged body.

"What's the matter, Rait?" He grinned menacingly as he circled her, the promise of danger lurking in his bright green eyes, "Afraid of a little hand-to-hand? And you were so quick with the offer of some friendly mouth-to-mouth."

Rait's mouth tightened as he attacked once more, jabbing one fist toward her face which she blocked, and another at her solar plexus, which she caught and twisted, using the lock to plant a slug across Brac's face. He kicked her in the ribs and then twisted the forearm she was holding to switch grips, clutching her elbow and spinning her around as he kicked the back of her knees.

Rait stumbled forward but didn't fall, instead throwing an elbow behind her to catch Brac in the head and then spinning back around as she wrenched herself free of his grip and got another swing at his jaw with her other hand. Brac's head spun to the side and then whipped back as he landed a hard-hitting slam-kick to Rait's stomach.

Rait stumbled and tripped against the wall, knocking over a standing lamp and sending broken glass smattering across the floor.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, time out!" Brac suddenly yelled as Rait's eyes widened and she stepped forward to attack him once more.

"What?" Her face puckered into a grimace of disbelief, "This isn't freeze-tag, moron!"

"No, but _that_ is my mom's favorite lamp which is like ancient and from her and O.C's roomies era and you just freaking _broke_ it!" Brac waved a hand at the fallen object with an almost panicked sound to his voice, and Rait's jaw fell open.

"_I_ broke it? _You're_ the only one to blame for this one, Brac Logan McDowell – _you're_ the one who…"

"Oh don't even _try_ and blame your klutz-out on friendly fire…"

"Yeah well I think we both know that that's exactly how _Max_ is gonna see it!" Rait crossed her arms, eyebrows raised and triumph riding her tone as Brac's eyes darted from the broken lamp back to Rait once more.

"Okay you know what, it's okay. I uh I can fix this…" Brac began to speak more to himself then to Rait as he sidestepped her and began to survey the damage, "I mean, it's not even that bad. It's just the bulb and uh looks like the skeleton took a bashing but I mean that's not too bad…"

Rait's mouth was agape, "Brac…"

"Okay so maybe it _is_ that bad." He continued as though she hadn't spoken at all, running his hands through his hair as he continued to focus on the lamp, "But you know what, I got some friends in Sector 4 who deal in imitation antiques. They could probably do a remake of this for me – I…I mean it'd cost a bomb, but money is _totally_ a secondary issue in this situation right now and…"

"For crying out loud, Brac, would you calm down already?" Rait was almost laughing by this point as she motioned to the offending object, "There's no need for you to go getting worked up over all of this. I mean, it's just a _lamp_…"

"Sure it's 'just a lamp'!" He pointed at her dramatically, "It's 'just a lamp' like her Ninja's 'just a bike', or…or…or her Brazilian blend is 'just coffee beans' or like…"

"Okay, I get it." Rait held up her hands and then blew out a breath, rubbing her ribcage which had begun to throb and wondering how the man who had just delivered such a mean set of kicks to her bone structure was suddenly so up in arms over a broken _lamp_.

"Look, it's fine…." She began, but Brac cut her off before she oculd complete her sentence.

"No it's _not_ fine." He ran a hand across his jaw and then pressed his forehead into his palm, and Rait huffed in frustration (while secretly glad that the seemingly inconsequential issues of Max's lamp was sapping Brac's attention away from the glaring reality of the situation barely a minute earlier).

"Oh come on! Max and Alec are like super-parents – I bet they've given you the 'you're more important then our things' speech a _thousand_ times."

Brac raised an eyebrow at her, and the X6 sighed with an exasperated eye-roll.

"Fine, okay? I get it. It's a big deal." Rait moved closer to the lamp and planted her hands on her hips, "Wait, you know who's into metalwork? Jinn."

Brac squinted in confusion, "Who?"

"He's just this X6 guy I know. He's really good with stuff like this. I mean, he could probably reshape the frame and at _least_ touch it up enough to…"

"Wait a second. I know a Jinn." Brac was clearly racking his brain, muddled and bombarded as it was, as he stalked to and fro for a minute before his eyes hit the floor and his finger jutted at Rait. "No."

She rolled her eyes again, "Brac, it was _years_ ago…"

"I don't care!" He barked in response as he continued to pace, "I swore I'd break his face if he showed it again and that's been working for us pretty well so far!"

"Well you got a better idea?" Rait spread her hands with a raise of her eyebrows.

"Yeah I do. I'm calling in some outside backup." He shuffled through his pocket, "Where the _hell_ is my fucking phone?"

The front door clicked open at that precise moment, and a familiar voice sounded as it did so.

"Dad probably confiscated it." Nyx strode through the door, pulling off her jacket and kicking it shut behind her as she balanced a large file in her other hand, "And you'll be lucky if that was all he did with it. Might find it in some sewer somewhere…" She froze as she took in the state of Rait and Brac.

"What the hell were you guys just…" Nyx's eyes widened as they strayed to the broken lamp on the ground.

"Nyxie…" Brac began almost frantically as her mouth fell open and she eyed him in disbelief.

"There's a perfectly sound explanation for this." Rait picked off where her partner in crime had left off as Brac floundered for words and came up blank.

Nyx merely shook her head and raised her eyebrows condemningly at the transgenics.

"You guys," she sighed as she hung up her jacket, "are _so_ freaking dead."


	9. Chapter 9

_**Back with another update. And I'm sorry it's so late. Happy Belated Valentine's, dear readers.**_

_**-- Tyler**_

* * *

Nyx merely shook her head and raised her eyebrows condemningly at the transgenics.

"You guys," she sighed as she hung up her jacket, "are _so_ freaking dead."

"Oh you're one to talk." Brac snapped as he waved a hand in her direction and walked towards her, "Where the hell have you been?"

"Central, working on the case." Nyx responded shortly before she cast him a weird set of eyes, "By the way, I ran into Mole and told him he could hit the town for a couple of hours till Tank comes over." She nodded at Rait, "Hope that was cool with you."

"Cool with _her_?" Brac paused several feet away to glower fiercely at his younger sister, "I'm going out of my mind here. No one's told me a single damn thing going on here. Dad hasn't called, you haven't called, and all I can do is pace around this damn apartment wondering what the fuck is going on!"

"Calm down." Nyx instructed as she hung her jacket on the railing and turned to raise her eyebrows at him, to which Brac responded with a narrowing of his own.

"Don't you fucking tell me to calm down, Nyx. I want everything you guys've hashed out, and I want it now! You got me?"

"I was getting to it!" She stated angrily as she stalked past the seething young man in front of her and slapped the file she'd been carrying onto the table, "Look, it's all here, alright? So you can just chill out before you give yourself a hernia."

"What you got?" Brac had moved on from anger to intense concentration as he reached for the file, but Nyx snatched it up before he did so.

"Hold up, GB Junior. You don't even know what you're looking for." Nyx ignored the scathing glare Brac threw her way as she took a seat on the sofa and perused the file in question.

Brac remained silent throughout Nyx's explanation regarding Adventus Secondum and Reeco's involvement in genetic experimentation. She secretly wondered if her brother had already gotten the drop on the whole affair as Brac's curiosity seemed absent until Nyx started on her and Logan's latest find.

"Now for the goldmine though." She flipped a page with a brief smirk of pride, "Logan and I spent hours hashing this one out and we've managed to make a major pull."

"Just spit it out, Nyxie." Brac grumbled from his position seated on the opposite sofa.

"Manners, Brac." Rait piped up laconically over his shoulder as she perched on the arm of the couch beside him and glanced curiously at the file in Nyx's hand.

"Butt out." He ordered curtly, leaning forward and raising his eyebrows at Nyx, "So? Spill already."

"Apparently – and this is so on the verge of being uncanny – we've got an opportunity to catch Reeco in the act of the big, the bad and the ugly." Nyx tucked her bangs behind her ears and Brac's nose scrunched up ever so slightly in disgust.

"Not _that_ act." Nyx rolled her eyes and flipped pages through the file, "Dirty pervert."

"Well you didn't leave much room for the sanitized alternatives with your vivid description." Rait protested with a squint of protest as she waved a hand in front of her face as though banishing the repulsive mental picture.

"Whatever," Nyx responded coldly as she rubbed at the sides of her temples briefly before breaking into a heavy sigh, "Alright, so here's the scoop, people: apparently Logan's contact told him that there would be a meeting tonight between the A.S zealots of the crime world."

"Tonight?" Brac queried in surprise, and Rait's eyebrows hit the roof.

"Well that's _definitely_ in 'uncanny's' zip code, Nyxie, I'll say that much."

"Where?' Brac's eyes had narrowed sharply now and his lips were beginning to gather into the faint pout of concentration that he shared with Alec.

"I'm getting there, Brac. Gimme some breathing space." Nyx snapped and then examined the file in front of her, "Sector 6, apparently. Oh and guess who's hosting?"

"Reeco." Brac said dryly as though the news came as no surprise.

Nyx nodded, "Now the sector no. was all we had, so barring some miraculous flood of intel on the specs, we're gonna have to sift through Reeco's joints down 6 side and hope we get lucky."

Brac shook his head, "You don't leave this kind of thing to luck, not with Reeco. We gotta get those specs…"

"Well how exactly do you propose that we do that?" Nyx demanded as her brother stood up and ran a shaking hand through his scruffy hair in intense contemplation.

"Easy. You 'n I both have sources in Reeco's crowd we could eke that kind of info out of. We just need some sort of leverage…"

"Brac, forget it." Nyx glared up at him as she leant back against the sofa and crossed one leg over the other, "Dad said you're staying out of this case and judging by the fact he shattered protocol and actually _nabbed_ your precious _phone_, I don't think he was fucking around."

He cast her a blank expression which implied that he was either wanting to kick his baby sister or pat her condescendingly on the head. Nyx's eyebrows fell sharply.

"No, Brac, do _not_ go wearing that face of yours, alright? You're in anything but peak condition and you're in a world of trouble to boot, so don't even _think_ about doing anything but sitting this one out…"

"Christ, would you lay off with the lecture, Nyxie?" Brac snapped as he began to pace in agitation, "I mean, it's one thing taking it from Dad, but don't think that for a _second_ I'm putting up with it from _you_."

"You _don't_ take it from _Dad_," Nyx pushed up from the sofa and spread her hands in exasperation, "You don't _take_ it from _anyone_, Brac, okay?" She raised her eyebrows at him severely, "Just stop rain-checking reality and realize that it's what got us all here in the first place!"

"No, what got you all here was the fact that none of you can mind your own fucking business!" Brac retorted, stabbing a finger at Nyx as he took a step closer to her, "You had no right mousing in on my turf with this thing and the fact that…"

"Oh please." Nyx's eyes crackled with anger and her chin inched up higher as Brac stood over her, "You think Mom and Dad would have seriously left you to your own devices the second they found about it?" She eyed him up and down and shook her head in disgust, "I just did you a favor and called it in before they had to haul you out of a cellar in three separate body bags."

Brac's eyes held Nyx's for a long moment before a smirk tugged briefly at one corner of his mouth and he turned away from her.

"A bust on this meeting won't do shit. We need a plant with a wire who can get the whole nine yards on tape and get what we need to land these assholes in the can for good."

"You mean a mole who knows how to jiggle the bait?" Rait piped up cautiously from where she had slid off the sofa arm to watch the exchange between siblings with anxiety. To her relief, Brac didn't seem to mind her contribution to the conversation at that point in time, as he merely nodded.

"Exactly. The Manticore stuff isn't enough – we need to extract everything we got on them, Reeco especially, and for that we need somebody exceptional."

Nyx's eyes closed then rolled to the side but she grudgingly voiced her consent. "Sounds like a job for Dad."

"What?" Brac and Rait both queried incredulously, and Nyx shrugged.

"Come on, Brac. Putting aside your prejudices against the man, you gotta admit it makes sense. He worked with Reeco for years. He's got dirt and he's got sugar and he knows how to swing it with both. He'd be the best plant we could get…"

"Forget it." Brac pointed at the floor emphatically, "If anyone from our fam is going into that rat's nest, it's me. I'm the one with a bonafide membership card to the narcotics subculture here."

"Yeah, and you're also the one with a bounty on your head." Nyx crossed her arms and cast Brac a heavy look of sardonism, "You walk into that meeting and you're toast."

"So things get a little rough," Brac spread a hand, "at least you'll have the wiring and there'll definitely be enough angry ranting to slam the mousetrap shut…"

"Brac, no way. Forget it, okay?" Nyx snapped acerbically, and his jaw tightened as he closed the distance between them and glowered down at Nyx, his face inches away from hers.

"You know, I don't know _when_ you got on this high horse of yours, little sister," He whispered in an icily calm tone, "but you're gonna want to dismount it pretty fast before…"

"Before _what_, Brac?" Nyx hissed, her dark brown eyes burning with bile, "You take me down a freaking peg? You can't even control the goddamn _shakes_."

"Yeah well a lack of control is _dangerous_, Nyxie!" Brac raised his voice insistently and dipped his head to meet Nyx's eyes, "I'm asking you nicely; don't push me on this one."

"Okay, guys?" Rait's voice interjected into the argument as she waved the file at the siblings, "Reality check; we're not any closer to figuring out what we're gonna do with this Reeco tip-off here."

"Actually we were just in the middle of hashing it out." Nyx retorted in a quiet voice similar to Max's danger-voice. Brac rolled his eyes and moved to walk past her.

"No, Nyxie, we were done here."

"Hey!" She grabbed his sleeve and yanked Brac into place, "We are _not_ done, Brac."

His eyes flared into green supernovas of peril, "You wanna back off a few good feet, kid…"

"Okay you know what? Enough, damn it!" Rait slammed her fist down onto the coffee table and stomped over to the pair, shoving her way between them, "You," she placed a hand on Brac's chest and glared at him, "Chill out, and you," She stabbed a finger at Nyx and raised her eyebrows, "ease up."

"Rait," Brac began icily, but the small girl waved him off with a mordant jab of her finger.

"You guys want me to call your dad? Cuz I can do that; I have _no_ moral issue with siccing Alec on your asses."

Nyx rolled her eyes and Brac scoffed.

"Give us a break…"

"No, I'm serious here!" Rait continued viciously as her breath began to quicken and her face began to heat up slightly, "And right now he's _pissed_ and he's worried sick about _your_ mom," she pointed at Nyx, "and _your_ entrails," and her finger moved to Brac, "and Alec in that state of anxious wrath is bound to melt _any_ phone line and _definitely_ a couple of eardrums!"

Brac and Nyx remained silent as Rait took a deep, calming breath and threaded her fingers through her ratty blonde mop.

"Sorry." She snapped after a moment, and Nyx merely turned, hands on her hips as she stalked down the hall and slammed her bedroom door. Brac on the other hand offered the X6 a rabid smirk which almost rekindled her ire.

"What's so fucking funny?" Rait demanded as she frowned at him, and Brac raised his eyebrows with a shrug.

"Nothing. Just clears the air, is all" He leant forward, and Rait stiffened as the young man's man danced with a grin barely an inch from her face, "You haven't gotten laid since hell froze over and melted down again, have you, tight-ass?"

Rait actually found herself struggling for an appropriate comeback. Brac's scent, the aroma of transgenic man-flesh, was hot in the air and on her skin. She swallowed heavily and suddenly shuddered at the tingle of Brac's breath across the pores of her flesh.

"Ah," He raised an eyebrow and titled his head back slightly to appraise Rait, "you're probably kicking yourself. Real shitty time to hit the heat wave, huh?" Brac's voice was still in that rough, shallow whisper which was beginning to crawl under Rait's clothes and assault her body.

She felt her chest begin to heave slightly and her face flush once more as the temperature soared and her sweater became an unbearable burden – and barrier.

Brac looked her up and down and smiled as he leant forward once more, his forehead almost touching Rait's, "Don't worry, sweetcakes." He whispered with a grin, "I won't tell if you won't."

Rait's lips parted of their own volition, moist with desire as Brac's tongue snaked inside her mouth, exploring her oral cavity while his lips pressed against her own so lightly they almost didn't touch.

Suddenly Brac's mouth pulled away from hers, and Rait let out a shuddering gasp as he stepped back and sucked at his tongue with a sly raise of his eyebrow.

"Got it." Brac muttered and grinned at Rait as he swallowed, "M&M in your teeth."

"Brac…" Rait began, but swiftly stemmed her speech as Nyx barraged into the kitchen, silky chestnut hair flapping behind her with the bounce of her step as she hung up her cell phone.

"Okay, I just got off the line with Dad…"

"You got through to him?" Brac queried, following his sister to the sofa where she grabbed up the thick file on the tale.

Nyx sighed heavily, "No, he called me." She headed across the front room and grabbed her jacket off the coat rack, and once again Brac was on her heels.

"Well what he did say? I mean, did he get anything on Mom or what?"

"Uh, I dunno. I gotta zip."

"Yeah right." Brac's hand slammed across the doorway just as Nyx reached for the handle, "Nyx, what'd he say?" He repeated the words deliberately, and she pressed her lips together tightly as she tilted her head to face him.

"He's swinging by later on. He said he wanted to talk to you himself."

Brac's eyebrows furrowed and his shoulders lifted for a moment, "Well why? I mean, did something happen to Mom?"

"No."

"Nyx."

"Look, if it _did_, Dad didn't _say_ anything, alright?" Nyx insisted with a severe rise of her brow, "Just said he was heading over to T.C now, asked how you were and stuff."

Here Brac's eyebrows hit the roof and his lips curled into an incredulous grin before they parted to speak, "Oh he wants to know how I am? What'd you say, Nyx, did you tell him I was over the moon?"

"You don't wanna know what I told him, Brac, trust me." She glowered in response, and his eyebrows fell.

"If your testimonial had the words 'Brac' and 'wire' in the same sentence…"

"I didn't get past the words 'Oh he's alright, I guess' before the call timed out. Guess he ran out of credit." Nyx spoke the words with a weary enough tone to suggest she had warned Alec of that fate many times previous.

"Well!" Rait's loud announcement shattered the heavy tension blanketing the air as she slapped a hand at the wall she was leaning on, "Guess that settles it. Brac's got nine freaking lives, Can we move on with it now?"

"Move on with what?" Nyx queried skeptically, hand poised on the door handle, but Brac caught the slight tapping of Rait's feet and bit back a smirk.

"Nothing. Just uh weren't you going to Central?" The X6 woman smiled broadly, followed Brac's eyes to her chest and then promptly shoved her arms across it in an effort to disguise the peak of her nipples through her sweater.

"Yeah but…are you guys gonna be okay here?" Nyx's eyes flew from her brother to Rait and for a moment flickered with uncertainty, "I mean cuz Dad's gonna be at least another hour if not two, and Tanker won't be over till tonight."

"Nyx, we'll be fine!" Rait dismissed her with a wave of her hand, "I mean, no offense, but we're both notably older not to mention…"

"You're welcome." Nyx rolled her eyes and breezed through the door, slamming it shut behind her.

The moment the front door closed, Brac was slammed against it by Rait, who pinned him forcefully in place as she attacked his mouth with her own. She was fully aware of the fact that it was near impossible for a transgenic male to ignore the pheromones throbbing from a female in heat – and Rait used this to her advantage as Brac began to return her kiss with ferocity.

After a moment he pulled back, parting their enflamed lips and leaving them both breathless with desire.

"You don't want to do this." He whispered roughly, loosening the tight grip his hands had taken on Rait's biceps to the point of nearly lifting her off the ground.

"Oh I do." She muttered, chest heaving as she stepped back to pull off her sweater and expose the chiseled physique which she often hid underneath baggy clothing now wrapped in a tight purple tank top.

Tossing her sweater aside, Rait raised an eyebrow at Brac as her hands hovered fleetingly on the straps of her vest.

"The question here is…do _you_ not want to do this?"

Brac's eyes were dark as they wandered over Rait's body, enticing, ready, beckoning. Then undiluted desire rampaged his eyes, lighting up their emerald orbs as he grabbed Rait around the thighs, hoisting her onto his waist and spinning around.

She hissed with pleasure as her back slammed into the wall, her mouth working at Brac's lips and neck while her hands made short work of his sweater, tearing it down the center and yanking it off his arms.

They had time to kill.

* * *

Max glanced up as Reeco entered the room, fighting off the drowsy blanket threatening to overtake her from the suffocating heat and lack of sufficient oxygen – byproducts of her confinement.

"Finally. I was beginning to wonder if I'd missed my appointment." She forced out a token smart-mouthed remark to disguise the state of her condition as Reeco pulled up a chair and placed it several feet away from her cage.

"Bear with us, Miss Guevara. We'll have you out of here in no time if all goes according to plan." He stated calmly as he sat himself on the chair and crossed one leg over the other.

"Who's plan? Yours?" Max queried between teeth that were grit together to fend off her feelings of frustration at being unable to break through the bars and slam her knee into Reeco's skull.

He smiled, "Alec's, actually. Your boyfriend seems very keen on acquiring your immediate rescue – Casey's as well, oh and…Brac's also in the mix. All this for some drug connections and the promise of your son's disappearance from the business. A fair trade, to be sure."

Something about the tone in which Reeco spoke had Max's skin crawling.

"You gonna keep your end?"

"Why not?" He spread a hand with a slight shrug before he pulled a cigar out of his jacket, "Do you mind?" He waved it at Max before lighting up, and her lips tightened.

"Not at all. In fact, I've heard second-hand smoking increases brain cells."

"Is that so?" Reeco raised his eyebrows as he removed the cigar from his mouth, "Miss Guevara, I must advise that you examine the validity of your source on that particular statement."

"How about I examine the validity of your deal with Alec instead?" Max replied shortly, and Reeco returned his cigar to his lips, "You've got no intention of letting us all walk free after Alec fills in his side. You're just milking the fact you're gonna kill us for everything it's worth."

"Oh your deaths are worth nothing to me, Miss Guevara." Reeco responded, "Your lives, on the other hand? You alone would represent a living, breathing bank account with which I could fund a substantial number of very costly ventures."

"You know I think I remember having this discussion with my kids once." Max scrunched up her nose and titled her head in mock-thought, "Went something to the tune of 'I'm not made of money'." She continued as one of Reeco's eyebrows arched, "Think they wanted a Caribbean cruise'."

"You should have told them the truth." The drug lord took another drag of his cigar and leant back in his seat as he exhaled the smoke, "Boats are very dangerous places for a young transgenic child."

"I prefer not to call attention to the raging _psychopaths_ who try and ruin my kid's lives." Here Max smiled acidly at Reeco, and he shrugged.

"Brac is _very_ good at doing that _himself_. He requires _no_ assistance, from me or anybody else. At any rate, that's irrelevant to the current stream of conversation."

"Exactly what stream was that again?" Max squinted at him, "I was still taking notes in the 'raging psycopath' section."

Here Reeco stood up slowly, "I can see why Alec wants you back so desperately."

Max rolled her eyes, "Then why fight destiny?"

Reeco straightened his jacket with a disdainful tug and turned to face her, "_That_ is something _you_ and the rest of your kind have been doing since the moment Manticore dissipated into the past." Reeco lifted his cigar to his mouth and then paused, "I'm interested in the _future_, Miss Guevara. It's what I live for."

"Gee, I wonder why." Max responded, adjusting her shoulders to compensate for the burn in her back muscles from the strain of inactivity. "Present day not really barking up your tree? Try a support group, you know – thugs and villains dot com?"

"I've taken blood and tissue samples from you already, Miss Guevara." Reeco was suddenly switching topics as he puffed at his cigar, "I thought that would be sufficient, but my scientists tell me they require a more in-depth examination to obtain a sufficient…"

"Hold up." Max snapped, and her tone was so commanding that Reeco actually obliged her with a befuddled expression, "You took blood and tissue samples from me? What the hell is that supposed to mean? You cut chunks outta my skin while I was snoozing?"

"Sedated, actually." Reeco replied nonchalantly as he motioned to the air vents in the corner of the room, "Really, Max," His voice dripped with sardonism, "what did you _think_ they were for?"

"Figured they weren't air cons, for one thing." Max retorted, and then her eyes narrowed, "If you're trying to clone me, you can write it off as a dud. Even my Manticore _twin_ doesn't have DNA like mine. Looks like I'm a 'limited stock' special."

"We'll see." Reeco acknowledged in a slightly irritated tone of voice as his eyes trailed to the vents, and Max glanced up warily before she scowled at Reeco.

"If all else fails, Miss Guevara," He backed casually towards the door, noting that Max was straining at her bonds as the air vents began to hiss softly, "there's always your grandchild."

"What do you mean?" Max queried tersely, "Hey!" She barked as Reeco stepped through the door and let it close behind him with a thud.

"That's it." She muttered, pressing her wrists through the bars and working violently at the almost-severed chain of her handcuffs, "Sorry, Alec. This bitch is going down the hard way."

The chain broke with a slight snapping sound, and Max smiled to herself as she rolled her shoulders around and relished the feeling of freedom. She quickly sucked in a breath of relatively unpolluted air, knowing it had to last her a good long while. Yanking at the split chain on her handcuffs, Max shoved the sharp end of the broken link into the lock on her ankle shackles.

_You can take the girl out of Manticore, but you can't take the Manticore out of the girl. _

* * *

Brac eased himself out from underneath the sleeping X6 draped across half of his frame. Rait's breathing sharpened slightly for a moment as he left the bed, but she didn't stir.

And she wouldn't, either, for the next six hours. Not with the sedative Brac had clandestinely fed her.

Brac's body was shaking violently and he hastily made his way to the bathroom where his stomach emptied its contents into the toilet basin.

The withdrawals were coming on stronger now. His skin was beginning to itch and burn, and the cravings were almost irresistibly overwhelming.

But he could handle it. He had to handle it. There was way too much at stake.

Brac rinsed his mouth and steadied himself against the skin, glancing up at his reflection in the mirror and realizing he was still in his boxers.

He swallowed heavily and took several deep breaths to compose himself before straightening to his full height and exiting the bathroom.

It was a good five minutes before Brac strode into the front room, fully dressed and looking as fresh as his rough condition allowed. He pulled in his lips as he crouched down in the kitchen area, opening one of the cupboards and reaching inside. His face tightened slightly as he pulled a stitch while yanking at a slat in the cupboard's flooring, but an expression of satisfaction ultimately won out as he produced the item for which he had been in search.

Tucking the handgun into the inside pocket of his jacket and zipping up the coat, Brac stood up and ran a hand through his hair as he paced slightly in what was almost indecision…

Almost – because it wasn't.

Brac had already made up his mind that he would be the attending the meeting in Sector 6. He had also decided that whatever Alec had to say could wait its freaking turn.

Brac made his way steadfastly to the front door, but precisely as he reached out for the handle, something clicked and it turned, seemingly of its own volition.

Brac barely had time to step back from the door before it swung open and Alec stepped through it, looking tired and determined…and (as he caught sight of his son) surprised.

"Dude." Alec very nearly jumped out of his skin, and Brac would have been distracted by the edgy behavior had he not been consumed by more pressing matters.

"Where're you going?" Too late. Alec's eyes had narrowed into wary slits and his chin had begun to tilt up in the subconscious accusatory face he wore so well.

"Just getting some air." Brac rubbed a hand across his forehead as Alec (very pointedly) closed the door behind him and remained between it and his son. "I dunno what…I mean, I just really don't feel too hot."

"Brac, where're you going?" Alec's response was fluid, matter-of-fact.

_So much for appealing to his concerned, fatherly side_. Brac scoffed inwardly and sighed heavily before he rolled his eyes at Alec, whose jaw clenched as his eyes became stony.

"Yeah I thought as much." The X5 sidestepped his son and stalked past him to survey the apartment, "So," He turned and raised an eyebrow at Brac, "Which of your cubbyholes are you stashing Mole and Rait in?"

"Rait's fine. She's sleeping." Brac snapped with a little more force then he would have liked under the circumstances as he followed Alec through the apartment. The man seemed completely confident of the fact that Brac was no longer going anywhere.

"Sleeping, huh?" Alec was already opening doors and examining rooms, pausing briefly to appraise Brac's room with a smile which did little to belie his obvious disapproval at the turn of events.

"Yeah she was pretty wiped." Brac excused himself as Alec cast him a hard look over his shoulder.

"I'll bet." Alec closed the door on Rait's sleeping frame and headed back down the hall, Brac on his heels.

"Did you get any scoop on Mom?"

"She's fine – well, according to Reeco anyway." Alec was rubbing the back of his neck as though it was stiff as he opened the fridge and pulled out a beer, "Casey too, so he tells me…"

"So you talked to him then?" Brac demanded as Alec squinted suspiciously at a packet of Pretzels before tucking it under his arm and closing the cupboard he'd just opened.

"In so many words, yes." Alec leant against the counter and pulled the top off his beer, "Though of course, with Reeco it's less like talking and more like walkin' on a field of landmines."

"And? What does he want?" Brac drove his hands into his jacket pocket to disguise the trembling which had overtaken them.

Alec shrugged as he took a swig of his beer and swallowed, "Hard to say, really. Personally I think it's something to the tune of your head on a plate and Max's DNA in the Recycle bin, but I'm still hashing that one out."

"Well look, Nyx came up with something that I think is gonna be the trump card in this whole case." Brac felt a sudden wave of nausea wash over him and fought back the urge to make a beeline for the sink. Alec's eyes were on the Pretzel bag in his hand, but Brac knew better then to let that fool him into thinking the X5 wasn't watching him like a hawk.

"Yeah well we're not moving on anything till we get Max and Casey out of there, which is why you 'n I," Alec raised his eyebrows at his son, "are going to a meeting."

"What meeting?" Brac queried, eyes narrowing with cautious anticipation.

"Reeco wants to talk with you, or _to_ you, or _at_ you most likely – I dunno." Alec tore open the bag of Pretzels and then paused, "Want some?"

"No thanks. When's this happening?" Brac responded quickly, and then kicked himself as Alec glanced up to cast him a piercing glare.

"You haven't eaten a damn thing all day, have you?"

"I had some stuff with Rait before…"

"Yeah about that," Alec raised his eyebrows at his son, "whatever drug you pumped her with had better wear off soon or you can scratch shore leave for the next twenty-four months."

Brac ignored the less-then-subtle threat as he rested his hands on the counter and returned the eyebrow-raise, "So are we leaving right now or…"

"Meeting's at seven, at the Viper. It's not far – we don't need to leave for a good few hours. Speaking of leaving," Alec responded, and then he was putting his beer down on the counter and giving Brac a menacing expression – two actions which always spelled trouble.

Brac drew himself up with a stony air, "Before you even _start_…"

"Yeah save it." Alec snapped, "Just be thankful you're twenty and not twelve, Brac, and for god's sake, start trying to act like it." He grabbed up his beer and shoved past his son, taking up residence on the sofa and flicking on the TV with a face full of steel.

The conversation was over.


	10. Chapter 10

_**Another update people. The muse is back in its swing and it's a roller-coaster ride! Enjoy the latest fix, and please review it for me *sad puppy dog eyes*. Cheers, all!**_

_**-- Tyler**_

* * *

Two minutes of conserved oxygen later, Max had freed herself from the ankle bonds and was working on the cage. The lock was situated on the roof of crosshatch bars overshadowing Max, and she grit her teeth under closed lips determinedly as she twisted the handcuff link to and fro.

After a moment, the lock swung open with an audible clang, and Max shoved the roof open on its hinges, using her triceps to pull herself out of the cage and swing onto her bare feet with notable satisfaction.

Glancing up at the air vents once more, Max reached through the bars of her prison and snatched the broken handcuffs before rushing to the door. She pulled on the handle and wasn't remotely surprised to find it locked. Taking several steps back from the solid threshold, Max crouched slightly before swinging out a leg and slamming it against the door.

It stood firm, mocking her with its sturdy wooden eyes.

Max raised an eyebrow before she landed another few kicks and realized that it was indeed impenetrable. There was no keyhole in sight, and Max took note of the fact she would soon begin to run short on breath if she continued to exert herself fruitlessly.

Stepping back, Max's eyes trailed to the offending air vent once more before her brow narrowed determinedly and she jumped up onto the wooden desk. Clutching the vent's thin bars, Max's jaw set tightly and she pulled with all of the strength granted her by Manticore.

The vent peeled off with a loud grate of protest, but Max took no notice as she threw it down and then gripped the sides of the open hatch. She swung her legs up into the vent and followed it with her torso, immediately feeling a sting in her eyes as the strong tranquilizer drug seeping through the air duct flooded around her.

Max crawled at an amazing rapid pace through the vent until she reached another cross-section, feeling her lungs begin to protest against the lack of oxygen as well as her vision start to blur her surroundings. She barely spared the room beneath the vent a second glance before she kicked it in, sending the hatch clattering to the floor.

Max jumped through the shaft and landed on her feet, head whipping around the survey the room in which she had landed as she inhaled deeply of the unpolluted air.

It appeared to be a supply room of some kind, and Max ducked low behind a pile of large plastic bags as she heard the sound of muffled voices.

She furrowed her eyebrows as she glanced at the white substance in the bags behind her and then crinkled up her nose in disgust.

_Great. Of all places, I had to end up in the cocaine warehouse._ Max scooted her legs, still stiff from lack of activity, closer to her chest as a worker ambled past. She placed a hand on the floor and used to push her upper body slightly higher, twisting her head as she peered cautiously out from behind the pile.

The supply room was stocked to the brim with bags similar to the ones behind which Max had taken up residence, sky-high piles of ivory powder which would make the average urban drug dealer blush seven shades of red.

_Where's a girl's cell phone when she needs it?_ Max would have given anything for her mobile just then. So it didn't have resounding pixel quality. This was one case where that really had no bearing on the photo in question.

Max all but jumped out of her skin as a hand suddenly clamped down on her shoulder. She glanced up quickly, fist coiled to strike, but paused when she came face-to-face with the young girl who had given her water only hours previous.

Max was silent for a minute as the girl studied her with a blank expression, before the latter glanced around and then grabbed Max's hand.

"Follow me." She whispered, and Max quickly rose to her feet as the girl led her into a broom closet at the back of the warehouse.

Max watched warily as the young girl closed the door behind them and then nodded at the transgenic woman.

"Knock me out."

"Say what?" Max squinted at her in disbelief, and the girl rolled her eyebrows.

"And transgenics are supposed to be smart." She raised her eyebrows at Max, "Knock me out, take my clothes and get the hell out of here." She began removing her jacket and pulled off the cap she was wearing, "You're three stories underground. There's a stairwell to the right of this closet. Take it till you reach an exit for the car park. You can take my car." She handed Max a bulky set of Toyota keys before unbuttoning her trousers, "Whatever you do, do _not_ try and find your friend. They've already moved her."

"Do you know where?" Max queried as she pulled on the faded jacket and jeans that her mysterious benefactor had handed over, and the girl just shook her head.

"They don't tell me those things. But there isn't time for that now. Did you know she was pregnant?"

Max paused, surprised, "No."

"Well she is, so I wouldn't worry about them hurting her. My uncle seems to want your friend in optimum health." She cast a worried glance at the door and then raised her eyebrows at Max, "Hurry up. I hear voices."

Max bit her lip as she laced on the boots that the girl had kicked off and glanced up as she did so, "Reeco's your uncle?"

"And Sherrie's my sister." She rolled her eyes as she spoke the name, "It's not something I'm proud of."

"Figures." Max offered sympathetically as she pulled on the other boot, "How'd you get caught up in all of this anyway? I mean, aren't you in school?"

"It's a part-time job." She smiled acidly, "You know, family business and all that jazz. There isn't really a cop-out option in the mix."

"I hear you on that one." Max pulled her hair up into a twist and shoved the cap tightly onto her head, "What's your name?"

"Friends call me Rick." The teenager nodded at Max, "If you take my uncle down…"

"I'm gonna get you out of here, I promise." Max replied, and Rick nodded in appreciation before her eyes took on a heavier pang of grief.

"My sister…she's not a bad person. I honestly think she kinda digs your son. That's sort of why I'm doing this – I mean, besides the whole boycotting my uncle's evil plans bit, of course. Brac's an awesome guy." She glanced up at the door once more before turning to Max, "Okay, go ahead. Do your thing."

Max grimaced apologetically, "I guess it's all about authenticity, isn't it?"

Rick nodded wryly, "Just…not the eye."

Max sighed despondently, feeling rotten as she swung out a fist and delivered a solid blow to Rick's cranium, causing the girl to crumple to the floor in instant unconsciousness.

"Sorry." Max cringed before turning and poking her head out of the broom closet door. Apparently Rick had been the only one on duty at that particular point in time, and Max didn't waste any time as she strode quickly through the warehouse, stopping to snatch up a smaller plastic bag of cocaine and stuff it into her pocket as she stepped through the stairwell door and closed it behind her.

The boots Rick had given Max were slightly big on the woman's petite feet and clanged noisily on the staircase as Max all but ran up the steps. She didn't pay any attention to sound – her mind was too busy engaging itself in a scathing debate with Alec.

Max's conscience was demanding that she not leave until she had ascertained Casey's current location, by hook or by crook (likely a great deal of both).

Her common sense (the voice of which bore a frightening resemblance to Alec's) dictated flatly that Max locate Rick's car and take the nearest exit road from Reeco's hovel of misdoings.

Max had just reached the Exit door markedly leading to the car park and was contemplating whether to go through it or to continue up the steps. Fortunately, she had time to do neither before the door opened and Max came face to face with two security guards.

They paused to allow her to pass, and Max hastily strode through the door, keeping her head low without ducking it altogether as she headed into the car park. Thumbing the button of Rick's car key, she heard the telltale beep and began to walk towards the small Toyota at the far end of the car park.

Max became aware of the security guards still hovering in the doorway of the stairwell and quickened her pace as their radios began to crackle.

Sure enough, one of their voices sounded only moments later, deep and gravelly and menacing.

"Hey! You there! Hold up!"

Max broke into a run, blurring with incredible speed to the car as a bullet whizzed past her ear. She rolled behind the wheel and stayed low as a hail of gunfire smattered through the lot, ricocheting off walls and vehicles and narrowly missing Max as she slid into the front seat of the car and revved the engine to life.

The guards had already broken into a run, A-Ks blazing as Max pulled the Toyota out of the parking space and swerved it violently towards the exit path. Bullets riddled its body and smashed through the glass, and Max slammed her foot on the accelerator just as a searing pain stabbed at the back of her right shoulder.

Gritting her teeth against the pain of the gunshot wound and trying not to worry about the bullet's proximity to her heart, Max forced the Toyota up the ramp and out onto the deserted patch of road that met her eyes.

* * *

Alec glanced up from the TV as the sound of Brac's breathing became glitchy and almost a rasp. The young man had been kneeling on the ground beside Max's broken lamp for the past hour, attempting feverishly (and silently) to fix the dent in the frame as well as fit a new bulb in the dated inlet (which was designed for a model of lightbulb no longer in production).

Alec sighed and shook his head, standing up and flicking off the TV as Brac paused to clench his shaking fists tightly in an effort to control the trembling while gritting his jaw in a telltale expression of frustration.

"What's the problem?" Alec crouched down beside his son and glanced from the tools strewn on the floor to the broken lamp stamp.

"There isn't one." Brac ground out curtly, and Alec rolled his eyes.

Asking for help had never been Brac's strong point – as was evidenced by their predicament with Reeco.

Alec's anger at Brac had long since subsided (a beer and suitable media distraction usually had that affect on him) and the X5 had decided the current situation presented an ideal opportunity for him to teach his son a much-needed lesson in a less confrontational manner.

"You know that dent's an ugly sucker, but it's not as imposing as it looks." Alec reached out and picked up the lightweight frame as Brac scowled turgidly at the statement, "You just need to heat it up enough to get the metal into a malleable state, then you can reshape it no problem."

"With what, a soldering kit?" Brac frowned questioningly as Alec ran a thumb across the dent.

"Nah. Just your average fire would do the trick, but you're gonna need a set of pincers. There's some in the toolbox under the sink, I think."

Brac's lips pursed for a minute before he finally forced his question, sitting back on his haunches to raise an eyebrow at Alec, though avoiding eye contact.

"What about the bulb?"

"Lemme see the inlet." Alec flipped the frame around and narrowed his eyes at the head of the lamp. "Uh it's a screw-in. You're not gonna find one of those anymore."

"Yeah I got that figured." Brac snapped as he held up the conventional squeeze-and-insert light bulb he'd been working with, "These won't fit and I tried detaching the inlet but the wiring's too old."

"Yeah no it'll fuse out if you try replacing it." Alec maneuvered himself into a sitting position on the ground and examined the inlet once more, "Hand me that bulb, would ya?"

Brac complied with a low-throated groan which suggested that he thought Alec was wasting his time.

"It's not gonna work."

"Just have a lil' faith, kid, for crying out loud." The X5 remonstrated breezily as he picked up a screwdriver from the floor and changed the head, replacing the 'X' tip with an 'I' and beginning to poke at the insertion point.

Brac rolled his eyes and crossed his arms over his knees, using the brief window of time to rest his head in the crook of his sleeve and attempt to ward off the cravings.

Alec's eyes didn't lift from the lamp, but his eyebrows rose slightly.

"Not feeling too hot, huh?"

"Wasn't lying about that part." Brac grunted in agreement from the cavity of his arms, and Alec's lips twisted slightly at the statement.

"Brac, I get that you want out, okay – really, and I'm not just bein' a tyrant."

"I get it." The muffled confession caused Alec's eyes to flicker up from his work and he paused to gaze at his son.

"Stop looking at me like that." Brac muttered, face still buried in his arms as he pulled his knees up his chest and laced his fingers together in an effort to stem the shaking.

"I'm not looking at you like anything." Alec protested quietly, and Brac scoffed at the statement before shaking his head and reaching up a hand to scratch violently at the back of his neck.

"Look, I knew you and Mom would have my back on this thing if I asked you about it, and you don't have to believe me, but dragging you into this mess was the last thing I wanted to do."

Alec digested the words before he shrugged ever so slightly as his eyes returned to the inlet, "Yeah but you also had to've known Max and I wouldn't just _back off _with a case this dangerous, Brac."

Here Brac unfolded from his position and crossed his legs in front of him as he closed his eyes tightly and ran his fingers through his hair.

"Yeah but Dad, you don't get it. This is all stuff to do with me and my past. I mean, Bren working with Reeco – it's _my_ fight."

A wry grin overtook Alec's features, as grim as it was honest, "Hate to break it to you, bud, but this whole thing is a lot more complicated and involves a lot more people then you seem to be thinking."

"Okay so you worked with Reeco!" Brac barked out as he opened his eyes to glare at Alec, "You're not the one who's blood he mooched off for a month…"

"No, I'm the one who spent that month _agonizing_ over it though," Alec responded sharply, "So you know what, the next time you feel like puttin' yourself first in line for revenge, stop and think about it first."

Brac rolled his eyes and shook his head as he glared at the wall beside him, jaw rigid with a flow of unspoken words desperate for air space but retained on grounds of pride.

Alec's mouth tightened as he focused on the lamp in his hands, but his tone softened somewhat as he continued.

"I just wanna understand why it is you feel like you can't come to us with stuff anymore."

Brac's eyes pinned the frayed drawstring of his hoodie as he twirled it in his fingers, "It's complicated."

"That's not an answer."

"And that wasn't a question." Brac retorted, before he sighed heavily, shoulders slumping as dots began to glint in front of his eyes from hunger and lack of sleep. "Look, it's not cuz I don't trust you guys, alright?"

"Then what is it?' Alec prompted, and when Brac shrugged in response he set down the lamp and leant forward with an earnest face. "Come on, Brac. You can spill it out with me, you gotta know that."

"I know, it's just…" Brac picked up a stray pair of pliers and fingered it absently, "You and Mom have been sorting things out for me and Nyxie since we were kids, and I feel like I owe you a freaking break – especially after everything that happened with Bren."

"What?" Alec's eyebrows narrowed in confusion, and then his face morphed into a grimace as realization dawned, "Dude, you're not saying you still feel like you have to pay off some _debt_ because you were kidnapped at _thirteen_, right?"

Brac's disconsolate shrug caused Alec to swear under his breath in frustration.

"Jesus, Brac, I thought we were done with all the guilt-tripping shit."

"It's not a guilt-trip!" Brac's head shot up hotly, and his piercing glare crashed like a tidal wave against the shore of Alec's matter-of-factness.

"Oh really, then what is it?" His father queried bluntly as he leant further forward and squinted questioningly, "Some kinda righteous indignation, the quest for the Holy Grail, what?"

"I don't know!" Brac yelled as he leapt to his feet.

"Yeah well I do!" Alec responded flatly as he glanced up at his son, "You're talking to the guy who used to break people's necks for a living, Brac. You're not getting jack past me here, alright?"

Brac's eyes rolled once more as he began to pace, rubbing a hand across his jaw as Alec continued, undeterred by the apparent lack of receptive ground.

"Now you can walk around for the rest of your life flagellating yourself over whatever you think you did wrong, but that isn't gonna change your past, it's just gonna ruin your future." Alec raised his eyebrows at Brac as his son paused and looked at him, "It's gotta stop, Brac."

Here the young man groaned, "Dad…"

"No I mean it, dude, I'm serious." Alec pointed the screwdriver in his hand at the young transgenic standing over him, "You want Reeco off the streets, that's fine. You already know I'm with you on that one. But this feeling you have to push yourself into a bunch of insanely dangerous cases, that I'm not cool with."

Brac didn't respond as he leant against the sofa, resting his hands on the rim and studying the floor.

Alec's lips pursed and he sighed before he looked at the bulb in his hand and tossed the inlet down, "Yeah this is fucked." He muttered to himself, and both transgenics knew he was referring to more then just Max's lamp.

Silence reigned in the room for a moment before Brac broke the quiet.

"I gotta hurl." He murmured as he turned and stalked quickly to the bathroom, slamming the door behind him just as Alec's face became a picture of concern and he rubbed a hand wearily across his forehead.

Suddenly his cell phone buzzed, and Alec quickly reached into his pocket, eyes narrowing sharply at the caller ID before he held the phone to his ear.

"Hello?"

"Alec, it's me."

His eyes widened, "Max?"

* * *

Max stood huddled in a phone booth, one hand clutching the payphone and the other wrapped around her injured shoulder blade, out from which was seeping thick, sticky blood which had soaked through Rick's thin jacket.

"Who'd you think it was? Your call-girl?"

"Very funny. Where are you?" Alec stood up, face narrowed into a dark frown of worry, "You okay?"

"Yeah, just made a getaway from Reeco's dark and dingy dungeon in Sector 3." Max forced the pain out of her voice and strained a smile, "They tried to make me dance the tango. I had to bail."

"Casey with you?" Alec queried, and Max sighed at his words.

"No. Apparently they relocated her before I got the chance to bounce." She winced at the grating pain burning in her chest and swallowed heavily before she spoke again, "Anyway, look, I'm not gonna make it home for a bit, but I wanted to call and make sure you all knew I'm out and doin' okay." She pressed her back against the dial booth as a couple stalked past in an effort to disguise the bloody jacket.

"Forget it, Maxie. You gotta get your ass back to TC now." Alec's command sounded more like plea, "I need your help back here."

"Liar." Max responded with a grin, "You just want someone to whine to about havin' to deal with the home front."

"Yeah well there's that too." Alec sounded distracted in his retort, and after a moment his voice, quiet and thick with worry sounded over the line, "Max, you're not okay. What gives?"

"Got a lot on my mind." Max chirped, "For example, the fact that you 'n I are gonna be grandparents."

Alec's face puckered into a grimace of complete disbelief, "What?"

"Casey's pregnant, apparently. Reeco seems to think it's Brac's." Max shut her eyes and swung out a hand against the glass to steady herself as sharp pains began to throb at her heart. She didn't hear Alec's response as her vision began to spin and black dots danced before her eyes.

"Max?" Alec queried as silence upheld itself over the line. "You there? Max." He scowled darkly at the phone as static reached his ears. "Shit." He muttered as he scrolled down a number list on his cell and then held it to his ears once more.

"Were you talking to Mom?" Brac demanded as he exited the bathroom, face splotchy and bloodshot eyes that narrowed in alarm at the dark frown Alec wore.

"Yeah, she's out but somethin's up."

"What?" Brac raised his eyebrows and closed the distance between him and his father, "Well is she okay? Did she get Casey out? Where is she?"

"I don't know, alright? I'm gonna find that out." Alec stated in a tone which stated in no uncertain terms that Brac's complete silence was now in order as he paced impatiently in the kitchen, "Dix, hey. Look I need you to trace a number for me, alright? I'm pretty sure it was a phone booth."

Brac stood impatiently as Alec rattled off the telephone number he had only glanced at once (a little Manticore trick).

"You sure?" Alec ran a hand across his barcode and scruffed up the front of his hair as Dix reported his find, "Kay thanks man. Hey is Nyxie there with you?...Can you put her on for me?"

"Did he say where she was?" Brac finally burst out as his impatience got the better of him. Alec pointed a finger in his direction and he clamped his jaw shut in tight frustration.

"Nyxie? Hey, listen, I found your mom…yeah she busted out but I think she's in some kinda trouble." Alec's eyed rolled briefly at his daughter's reply, "Yeah, yeah, okay. Listen, I need you calm right now, got it? I need your help on this one." He flashed a smirk that was both patronizing and warm, "'Atta girl. I'll meet you outside Central in five, alright?...And no freaking out on me…'Kay, see you there."

"If Nyxie's going, I'm going too." Brac stated flatly as Alec hung up his phone and pulled on his brown leather jacket with a wry shake of his head.

"You can stretch those limbs of yours when we go see Reeco tonight. Till then you're staying put."

"Just tell me if she's hurt!" Brac's sudden yell of response caused Alec to pause in zipping up his jacket to cast his son a measured glance of warning.

"Would you take it easy? Your blood sugar levels are at an all-time low."

"I'm coming with you." Brac grabbed up his jacket, which was still carrying his gun, and slung it on determinedly as Alec pulled on a pair of biking gloves with a grim expression.

"Dude we are _not_ having this conversation _again_."

"This isn't Reeco, this is Mom. It's different." Brac spread his arms and leant forward with a resolute raise of his eyebrows.

"Yeah and how much help do you think you're gonna be to her with the state you're in now, huh?" Alec queried in response, and Brac's jaw ground against itself as he placed his hands on his hips and glared at the wall beside him.

Alec kept up the uncompromising eyes he had fixed Brac with for a moment longer before Brac's head dipped, then the X5 returned to finishing fastening his jacket in place.

"Call me when you find her?" Brac mumbled as he slumped against the counter and slouched his shoulders in defeat.

Alec wasn't remotely taken in.

"Brac, I mean it. Stay put."

"Which part of 'call me when you find her' wasn't satisfactory?" Brac retorted sullenly, but he rolled his eyes as Alec face hardened into a stony expression and the X5 began to take a step forward.

"Look, would you just beat it?" Brac snapped, "Mom needs your help; don't you think you've wasted enough time on my issues?"

"Soon as I get the words outta your mouth for future evidence." Alec replied curtly, and Brac growled at him, shifting from foot to foot and clearly wanting nothing more then to head down the hall – but knowing better then to turn his back on one of his parents when things were at this level of intensity.

"Brac." Alec's bark returned his son to reality and the young man glared skyward as he forced out a suitable response.

"I'll hang tight."

"Till I say so?"

"Till you say so. Now hit the road."

"Fine." Alec turned to leave without another word, apparently satisfied with whatever conclusion he had reached in his mind as he headed for the door, "If I hear you stepped _foot_ outside this apartment," He raised his eyebrows matter-of-factly at his son as he paused in stepping through the doorway, "I'm never trusting you again. You got it?"

Brac winced against the crawling of his skin and rubbed at his neck while trying to force out an appropriate reply, "Yes, Sir."

Alec's eyebrows relaxed and he left the apartment without another word.

* * *

The December sun had melted into dusk as per its winter routine, allowing the artificial lights their chance to admire their reflection in the baubles and tinsel decorating the hospital wing through which Dr Johnston strode hurriedly.

"What's her condition?"

"Critical. The bullet's lodged dangerously close to her left ventricle." Replied the nervous surgeon who jogged briskly alongside the McDowell family doctor, "We've got her in the operating room undergoing immediate surgery."

"Blood loss?" Johnston ran a hand over his head and pushed through the door which loomed up ahead.

"Pretty severe. We've got her on drips." The surgeon raised his eyebrows at Johnston as they stepped into a room crowded with white coats and squealing machinery.

"Good." Johnston took a ragged breath as he caught sight of Max's unconscious frame lying in on the operating table, surrounded by a flurry of anxious doctors and undergoing surgery to remove the bullet in her chest. He couldn't get a decent look at her, but from what Johnston could observe, Max was sweat-soaked and pale, connected to a host of drips and wired to an army of support and monitoring machinery.

Her face was frighteningly calm under the effect of the anesthetic and beneath the cover of the respirator.

But the X5 woman still appeared in such fragile form that Johnston almost felt his own heart blanch.

"Dr Johnston?" The surgeon was glancing sideways at him now, and the doctor swallowed convulsively at the tone – it was the one he used with relatives of patients who weren't going to pull through.

"We need you to get in touch with her next of kin. It's very possible she may not make it."

Johnston sighed heavily and turned on his heels, walking quickly through the door as he felt his stomach churn. He had seen a great deal throughout the course of his medical career – but the sight of Max, who normally appeared vibrant and alive, now hovering at the threshold of death's door…without any of the people who she loved beside her at the crucial moment…

It was all too much for Johnston.

"Dr Johnston!" The persistent badgering of the surgeon, who, Johnston noted, had followed him ruthlessly out of the operating room, broke into his thoughts.

"It's _imperative_ we contact Miss Guevara's next of kin in light of the situation's current instability…"

"Johnston!"

The doctor's eyes shot up at the unmistakable voice that rang strong down the hallway. His mouth hung open slightly agape as none other then Alec came into view, almost running in his stride as he caught sight of the doctor.

"Alec!" Johnston stammered out a response, caught off guard as the X5 skidded to a halt, green eyes dark with worry that gazed intently at the operating ward behind the doctors.

"Is she in there?"

"Are you Mr. McDowell?" Queried the surgeon tentatively, although it was evident he knew the answer to the question.

"Is she in there?" Alec all but roared as he shoved the surgeon out of the way, brushing past Johnston who grabbed the transgenic's arm as he did so.

"Yes, she's in there, but you can't go in."

"The hell I can't." Alec snorted as he started forward again.

"Alec, they're operating. It's procedure." Johnston attempted to reason his friend – to no avail of course.

"Fuck procedure. They let us stay with _Brac_ the whole time when he was getting operated on…"

"Yes but he was _twelve_, Alec!" Johnston insisted as he positioned himself between Alec and the operating room with a raise of his eyebrows, "And it was resetting a broken _bone_ – this is _heart_ surgery!"

Alec's eyes snapped to Johnston's, "They said she got shot through the _shoulder_."

"The _left_ shoulder, Alec." The doctor explained as calmly as he could under the circumstances, "And it wasn't a clean sweep either. The bullet's lodged next to Max's heart and it's dangerously close to a ventricle."

"Why didn't you call? Why the _fuck_ didn't you call me?" Alec yelled, shoving Johnston in the chest before he turned and clasped his head in his hand, "Jesus Christ…"

"Alec, I only just got here myself, alright? Now you need to take a breath, come on, take a breath for me." Johnston reached out a hand to steady Alec as the man leant against the wall and ran his hands through his hair.

"I'm fine." He ground out, rubbing a hand over his face and inhaling deeply before he threw Johnston a pair of fierce eyes, "I gotta go in there, Johnston, I have to be with her right now."

"I know – and you will be. Just give them half an hour, Alec, that's all I'm asking. Half an hour."

Alec turned narrow, shining eyes on the Ordinary beside him, a stony glare mingled with a desperate plea that stated a half hour of agonized waiting for reunion with his mate was far too much to ask.

Johnston felt his gut knot nauseatingly and swallowed heavily as he nodded at the surgeon standing awkwardly on the scene to beat a hasty retreat. The man complied without a second glance, leaving Johnston and Alec to themselves as the latter sank dismally into a chair and propped one elbow onto the arm as he dipped his forehead to meet his hand.

"I don't get it." He muttered, voice low and rough with worry as Johnston took the chair beside him, "Why didn't she tell me she was hurt?"

"You know Max." Johnston stated in a soft tone as he eyed Alec with genuine concern. He hadn't seen the X5 so close to breakdown in years. Even during Brac's double-barrel, near-death misses in his thirteenth year, Alec had held it together with surprising resilience to the obvious anguish he and Max had been besot with.

"She hates people freaking out over her. Most likely she just didn't want to worry you."

Here Alec scoffed in a voice hitched with a restraint against choke-ups, "Yeah, A-plus job on that one, Maxie."

"She's going to be okay, Alec." Johnston encouraged as he eyed the man intently, "I'll make sure she pulls through."

"Oh _I'll_ make sure she pulls through, don't worry." Alec intoned with a rancid severity that was evidently forced, "Max is gonna have to be in _real_ peak condition for the ass-kicking she's got comin' her way for this one."

Johnston shoved a wan smile to the fore, "I don't doubt it." He was more then familiar with the McDowell clan's artillery of coping methods.

Alec sniffed and rubbed a hand through his hair before pulling it across his jaw, "Do you uh…I mean she needs blood, right?"

Johnston flicked his tongue over his dry bottom lip and studied the paisley wallpaper across from him, "Well so far they seem to have enough transgenic blood in the bank to go around, but I'll let you know if something comes up."

"Yeah, thanks." Alec was drumming his fingers against the chair as an outlet to the anxiety he was now attempting to fend off. Then the silence came, cold and hard and rigid, almost casual in its existence. Johnston remained unfazed and simply sat beside Alec as the X5's countenance gradually took on a calmer, more controlled air while the minutes ticked by.

The McDowell family doctor merely waited, knowing for a fact that his precense was as desired as his silence.

It was the only kind of support Alec would be accepting just then – and, subsequently, the sole form that Johnston would offer.


	11. Chapter 11

_**Thanks to everyone for the reviews** (sorry I couldn't respond personally this time around - I was babysitting again). But I managed to catch the crumbs from the table of my muse and knead them together into another chapter for y'all. **Hope it delivers. We're approaching the grand ending chapters I expect** (about bloody time...I'm already being bombarded with requests for more DA fics and I want to get moving!). **Read and PLEASE continue to review for me.** Cheers!_

**_-- Tyler_**

* * *

"I don't even know what you're still doing here, Colden." Sherrie stubbed the butt of her spent cigarette into the ashtray on the window ledge as she leant her other hand on the sill and raised her eyebrows at the floor, "Oh wait, it's McDowell, isn't it?"

Nyx, standing at the opposite end of the apartment's front room with her arms crossed over her chest, smiled tightly.

"Colden's my stage name. You know, just like Sherrie's yours?" She raised an eyebrow as the blonde turned to frown at her, "Birth name's Katinka, isn't it?"

"Someone's done her homework." Sherrie mused flippantly as she stalked long, bony legs into the kitchen area and flipped the switch on a sleek espresso machine on the counter. "So where were we again? Oh yeah – you were asking me to spy for you."

"Not asking, telling." Nyx unfolded her arms and took a notable step closer, stopping to grimace at a pile of dirty clothes strewn on one of the leather sofas, "Are those Brac's?"

"What?" Sherrie glanced up from her coffee, "Oh. Yeah. Messy little slob, ain't he?"

"Actually no, he isn't." Nyx's sharp eyes were moving now, alert and piercing like her mother's as they shifted around the room and then halted on Sherrie. "So the question here should really be; who is?"

Sherrie's shoulders squared and her chin jutted out slightly as her eyebrows narrowed at the espresso machine's squealing, "Yeah, sure, honeybuns, blame me. You McDowells have a love for that, apparently."

"Oh really?" Nyx rolled her eyes as she watched Sherrie attempt to cajole the coffee-maker, "Is that uh…according to Hobo here?" She marched over to the sofa and lifted a filthy, faded shirt in front of her.

Sherrie's eyes lifted from the counter at that statement as Nyx raised an eyebrow at the T-shirt's maxim.

"'Blondes do it best', huh?" Nyx scoffed and tossed the shirt aside, "Yeah well. At least brunettes remember it the next freaking morning."

"Get out of my apartment." Sherrie's word rang with bite.

"What, no words of endearment?" Nyx clutched her heart in offense, "And here I thought we could call each other 'sis' and bond over some pink, tangy cocktails."

Sherrie slammed the empty mug she had been holding down and stepped pointedly around the counter with an angry glare, "While we're on the subject of cocktails, did I ever tell you I think they put a little too much female dog in your mother's?"

Nyx's lips coiled into an amused smirk as she stepped away from the sofa and closer to the leggy blonde, "Well now that we're traveling the well-worn 'your momma's so fat' trail, did you know yours has to use the equator for a belt?"

"Get _out_ of my apartment." Sherrie repeated her previous order, this time with a notable tang of danger to it.

"Or you'll what?" Nyx queried laughingly as she looked the skinny blonde up and down with very perceptible contempt, "Bitch-slap the dumb outta me? Take your best shot."

"Actually my _best shot_ was alerted the moment you stepped into this flat." Sherrie titled her head to the side with a precocious raise of her eyebrow, "You should have a bullet through your skull any minute now."

"Any minute now, huh?" Nyx shrugged and then moved in one swift blur to Sherrie's side, twisting her wrist up and behind her back as she slammed her face-first onto the counter.

"Would that be the _minute_ it's gonna take me to convince you that getting a dig on Casey's location for us is a _really_ good idea?"

To Nyx's irritation (but not surprise, because she had become used to the indifferent reactions of Jimmy Reeco's crew), Sherrie mewled fiestily.

"Oh I hope it's gonna be longer then that, Colden. I've sorely missed being manhandled by a McDowell since your Dad locked up my boyfriend and threw away the key."

Nyx grimaced at Sherrie's back, "Yeah well sorry to disappoint you, but sadomasochism doesn't really run in the family." Here she twisted Sherrie's arm harder, and the blonde inhaled sharply, "Though of course there are exceptions."

"Don't give me that." Sherrie retorted mockingly from her position still slammed over the counter, "I saw the look on your dad's face when I clawed him good. It was like a bigger, badder Brac," She shivered, "So delicious."

"God," Nyx rolled her eyes in disgust, "You know what? Fine. Let's explore the dirty path a little. You like swirlies?"

"What?" Sherrie's tone altered considerably and she began to struggle as Nyx calmly hauled her up and dragged her towards the bathroom.

"Yeah, you know that thing where I stick your head in the toilet bowl and flush it? Sounds kinky, no?" The transgenic shoved the door open and pushed Sherrie inside the bathroom, slamming the locking the door behind her and crossing her arms with a raise of her eyebrows.

Sherrie's jaw tightened and her nostrils flared, "I'm not telling you anything!" She spat, and Nyx rolled her eyes.

"I'm not _asking_ you to tell me anything. God knows every word that comes out of your mouth is tainted by all the Hobo head you're clearly dishing out."

"Bite me, Colden." Sherrie hissed, her hands straying towards the mirror cupboard as she backed against the sink and Nyx took a step forward.

"I think you'd enjoy that just a little too much, Sherrie, so no thank you, I'll pass." Nyx cocked her head to the side and raised an eyebrow, "Listen, sweetie – it's very simple. You ask Uncle Dearest where Casey's hanging out, I listen from the wire we're gonna tack up to your chest – bada bing, bada boom," Nyx snapped her fingers, "Everybody's happy."

"Yeah except me when I get my toenails yanked off with pliars!" Sherrie snapped, and Nyx shrugged dismissively.

"Oh and with all this talk of pleasure fused with pain, you're saying that like it's a bad thing." Nyx waved dismissively.

"Look, I'm serious, okay?" Sherrie fairly yelled, "If you make me do this for you and I get caught, Reeco's gonna have me tortured and lock me up till the cows come home!"

Nyx bit back the snappy one-liner that automatically crested her tongue at the panicked edge to the young girl's voice. Sherrie looked like she was desperately trying to ward off tears of fright.

"Not that I should care, but this is what I'm offering here." Nyx sighed heavily and tucked a bang behind her ear as Sherrie glared at the floor, "You do this for me, and I'll have you placed in protective custody the second you get out. Before, even. I'll get some guys on your ass to make sure nothing goes sideways with your uncle."

"And I should believe you why?" Sherrie retorted mordantly as she feigned examining her fake, painted nails.

"If you're the seeing is believing type, Sherrie, I don't think you're gonna need an answer to that question." Nyx raised her eyebrows, "They'll be there, trust me."

Sherrie snorted, "Trust _you_."

"Yeah, _trust_ me." Nyx jabbed a finger in her direction Alec-style, "It's not like I'm not trusting _you_."

"Only thing you can trust me to do is screw you over, Colden." The blonde stated acidly, and then in one swift move she clasped her hands together and slammed her elbow into the mirror cupboard mounted on the wall above the sink.

Nyx winced with shock at the sight of shattering, blood-stained glass flying to and fro as Sherrie, hissing and cursing with pain, snatched one of the long shards and held it to her own jugular vein.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" Nyx demanded, eyes going wide with both anger and apprehension as she risked a cautious step forward, and Sherrie, eyes filled with tears of agony and blood streaming from her elbow, pressed the glass shard tightly against her skin.

"Walk away, Colden!"

"Or you'll what? Commit suicide? Yeah cuz _that's_ gonna rip my heart in two." Nyx responded in a crisp tone which implied that Sherrie really must see reason.

"Might rip your brother's heart in two when he finds out Reeco's killed his bitch in pay-off, though!" Sherrie blinked back angry tears as her teeth grit determinedly, "Of course the news that he's planning on making Brac's unborn baby his new blood bank might just top the fucking cake!"

Nyx's eyes narrowed and her head titled to the side, "You're pregnant?" The concept seemed to terrify as much as it surprised her.

Sherrie's heavily made-up eyes rolled to the side briefly, "No, but Casey is."

"And Reeco thinks it's Brac's because?" Nyx demanded, and when Sherrie merely sneered at her in response, the transgenic balled her fists by her side and took a step forward menacingly.

"So help me god, Sherrie, you don't start talking and fast…"

"You come near me and I'll put a hole in my neck!"

"Yeah and then I'll stem the bleeding and have your ass rushed to ER and then we'll just take things from there, whaddya say?" Nyx retorted stubbornly and was pleased at the squint of defeat which crept into Sherrie's eyes. Okay, so the threat had been plagiarized a little – well, a lot. In fact, it had been a word-for-word rip-off of Alec's response to one of Nyx's drama displays back when she'd was just a kid.

Okay – there hadn't been broken glass involved. Still though…

Nyx watched as Sherrie's eyes darted to the side and then back at Nyx, and the girl found herself wishing once again that she had never let Alec talk her into this one. He'd been confident that Nyx was fit for the task, and although initially she had insisted on accompanying him to the hospital, one uncompromising order tossed her way in response had convinced Nyx that there was no way in hell fighting with Alec on the issue was going to end well.

But she'd been worried. Alec had been a bastion of calm until he'd interrogated (yes that _was_ an appropriate term) the local police officers who had initially arrived on the scene of Max's collapse and discovered her condition.

Then the X5 had shifted skins like the emotional chameleon he was, tightening his hold on the helm of affairs with a ruthless pragmatism which had somehow never failed to bow harder, stiffer heads then his own.

And somewhere in the middle of it all was Nyx, feeling crushed on both sides by Max and Brac's chronic recklessness into an invisible sardine can she was sharing with Alec – who, while desperately in need of the closeness, was also doing his darndest to fend her off.

The situation sucked, hands down. But Nyx was nothing if not a replicate of her mother in regards to grit and determination.

And she was fucking sticking to her guns on this one.

"So, what are you waiting for?"

"You to go the fuck away!" Sherrie's screaming didn't jolt Nyx this time. Instead the girl promptly turned her back, unlocked the door and began to saunter slowly out of the bathroom.

"Fine. But just so you know? My mom's already out. And it's only gonna be a matter of time before we get Casey out as well." Nyx paused and glanced pointedly at the floor over her shoulder, "And then we'll see who takes the heat for that one. Although…you having been seen with me in this apartment might be a clue on that one."

Nyx had recommenced her exodus before Sherrie's voice, bristling with contempt but riding an edge of fear at the looming shadow of her uncle's wrath, sounded sharply at her back.

"Wait!"

Nyx stopped in her tracks but didn't turn around, and there was a moment of bitter ambiguity before Sherrie finally forced out a statement that was blazing with malice and pride.

"Reeco ran a DNA test on Trendon's baby – that's how he knows it's Brac's."

Nyx's lips twisted as she finally turned to face the young blonde woman who had now moved the glass away from her neck and was pressing a bathroom towel to her gashed elbow.

"Keep talking."

"About what?" Sherrie huffed, and a sarcastic smile pushed Nyx's brown eyes into chocolate slits.

"I dunno. Use your vivid imagination and pick out all the details you think I'd be interested in."

Sherrie let out a heavy breath and her face tightened into a vicious scowl as she parked her rear on the bathtub edge, "My uncle wants to reinvent Manticore…"

"Project A.S – yeah I got the memo on that one already." Nyx retraced her steps back to the doorway and rested her hip and side against the frame as her arms crossed, "What's going on with this meeting down in Sector 6 tonight?"

"What, that wasn't in your memo?" Sherrie bit out with a roll of her eyes.

"Yeah it was, but they kinda forgot to staple the meeting agenda in with the file, so," Nyx waved a palm at the roof, "Cough it up."

"I don't know all the specs, but rumor on the street is it's gonna be in the basement of The Vixen Hotel."

"Your uncle owns The Vixen?" Nyx felt her cheeks flush slightly as she recalled the plush, multi-star hotel located in Sector 6. Memories of a passionate fling with one of the hotel's security guards which lasted the entirety of an unexpected heat cycle cropped up tauntingly in Nyx's mind, and she pushed them briskly aside in the face of current business.

"Yeah." Sherrie ground out impatiently as she pressed the towel tighter against her elbow and examined the wound gingerly, "Anyway that's all I know about it really. If you want more juice on it, why don't you ask your dad?"

Nyx's eyebrows furrowed quizzically, "Why would you say that?"

Sherrie rolled her eyes before resting them almost sympathetically on the young transgenic woman across from her, "Alec McDowell's a freaking legend in the drug world here. If he walked into any joint owned by one of the crowd, he'd get the VIP works. And he most definitely still holds a standing invitation to any meeting being held."

"But how would he know about this Reeco dig? I mean, is there a chain mail newsletter in circulation or something?" Nyx queried as she stepped over the broken glass on the floor and pulled open the drawers in Sherrie's bathroom cabinet in search of a first aid kit. She had no intention of allowing the girl to bleed to death. Not while there was a bed in the nearest Juvie Hall with Katinka Reeco's name on it.

"Get real, Colden." Sherrie responded, "All it would take is Alec McDowell showing at The Vixen at seven. He'd be instantly escorted to the meeting point and probably handed a replicate agenda and an ice tea."

"Huh." Nyx stated, more to herself then to her captive as she finally came across a roll of gauze and some antiseptic alcohol in the very back of one of the drawers. She'd had to rummage through a butt-load of syringes and elastic bands first. A drug addict's bathroom was a very interesting cultural experience to say the least.

"Anyway, that's all I can cough up, so if you want any more info, you can dial 411." Sherrie's voice was taut with pain now, and she was clutching her injured elbow close to her chest as she forced more pressure on the soaked-through towel.

"Came here to get a lead on Casey, and I doubt the lady on Information Hotline is gonna clue me in on that one." Nyx responded curtly as she crouched beside Sherrie, "Here. Move that out of the way." She motioned to the towel, and Sherrie blanched.

"Don't touch it, Colden!" She hissed and batted Nyx's hand away.

"Here's what's gonna happen, Sherrie. I'm gonna clean you up and you're gonna start talking, so let's just skip the vain protesting scene and get on with our lives." Nyx barked in a tone which stated that she was prepared to force the issue.

Sherrie pressed her lips together tightly in annoyance, but after a moment she moved the towel away from her elbow and allowed Nyx to begin swabbing it with alcohol.

"I can't get you Casey's whereabouts. Not after your mom just flew the coop – there's gonna be a clamp-down and I'm not in deep enough to be privy to that kind of information."

"Alright then you're going to have point to me to someone who is." Nyx replied evenly as she continued to clean the vicious gash on Sherrie's lean arm.

Sherrie hissed with pain and grit her teeth harder together as she shifted slightly, "The only person you might be able to get it out of would be my uncle Yuri."

"Who's Uncle Yuri in relation to Reeco and where would I find him?"

"He's Reeco's younger brother – works under him, but technically he runs the business." Sherri inhaled sharply as Nyx carefully removed a small shard of glass from her arm, "He's got _major_ bitterness issues and is so far the only person I've found to be _totally_ unmoved by Reeco's dominating nature. Reeco trusts him with a lot, and Yuri has spies in all the right circles to get scoop on whatever Reeco _doesn't_ tell him."

"Uh huh." Nyx finished cleaning Sherrie's gash and then proceeded to wrap the gauze tightly around the wound, "And where exactly would I find this Yuri fellow?"

"Well he'll evidently be attending the meeting this evening," Sherrie explained sardonically, "So if you wanted to get at him before then, you'll need to head to The Vixen right around now. He'll be overseeing preparation before everybody else arrives – dunno how on earth you're gonna get to him though."

"Is that so?" Nyx felt a slight smile creep over her lips as she finished binding up Sherrie's elbow and knotted it into place before standing up, "Tell me – does Yuri like brunettes?"

Sherrie eyed her up and down before a scornful smile crept across her face. "You're gonna need to borrow some of my stuff."

* * *

The clock chimed six o'clock before the surgeon stepped through the operating room's doorway, shutting the door quietly behind him.

Alec stood up instantly from where he had been sitting, and Johnston eyed the surgeon's body language intently as the man made his way to stand in front of the X5.

"Is she gonna be okay?" Alec demanded before the surgeon had even opened his mouth to speak.

The man sighed heavily, looking a good deal more haggard and worn as he scrubbed a hand across his surgical cap, "Looks like it, though it's hard to say for sure."

"What does that mean?" Alec queried, and Johnston heard the raw emotion quivering in the X5's rumble and hated the way it wrenched at him.

"It means surgery was successful. The bullet's been removed, the ventricles stable, along with all of Miss Guevara's vitals." The surgeon cleared his throat before he continued, "There's a complication."

"Yeah well with Max there's always a freaking complication." Alec growled, "So which is it this time?"

The surgeon threw Johnston a preliminary glance and then raised his eyebrows at the clipboard in his hand, "While running some tests, we discovered that Miss Guevara's blood stream has been injected with a very powerful form of anti-coagulant. It's one of the reasons she lost so much blood in the interim between the gunshot wound and treatment."

"So what, you're saying she's bleeding and you can't stop it?" Alec questioned sharply, and the surgeon shook his head.

"Thankfully, your wife's transgenic antibodies are gradually eliminating the drug out of her blood stream. We've also administered a dose of PCC to counteract the effects of the anti-coagulant."

Alec's shoulders relaxed slightly but the lines around his mouth didn't, "So then what's the risk?"

"Well she's recovering from a life-threatening bullet wound and a very major operation, Mr McDowell." The surgeon explained calmly, "The added trauma to her body of a blood cell war while it's also accepting foreign blood may well be too much for her system at this point in her recovery."

"I don't think there're sufficient grounds to worry." Johnston interjected, "Max has a very resilient system when it comes to recovery. I've never known her to remain hospitalized for a more then a few days even after major surgery." He turned to Alec, "She'll be fine, Alec."

The transgenic omitted a heavy sigh and cast the surgeon a weary, hopeful expression.

"Can I see her?"

The surgeon's frown lines deepened, "She's not in Recovery yet. We're keeping her in ER until we're certain this blood war has blown over."

"Can I see her?" Alec repeated, and Johnston, recognizing the dangerous edge riding the very outskirts of his friend's tone, raised his eyebrows compellingly at the surgeon.

"I shouldn't see why not!" Johnston smiled through grit teeth and did all but nudge his medicinal associate in an effort to disclose warning.

The surgeon's frown soured at this point as he glared from Johnston to Alec and back at his clipboard. Finally he huffed out a frustrated sigh.

"Fine. But I'm afraid this is the only exception you'll have until Miss Guevara is out of ER, Mr. McDowell. We run a very tight ship here at…"

"Good for you." Alec patted the surgeon's shoulder a little harder then the man was comfortable with as he rushed past the doctors and around the corner.

"Room 10!" The surgeon yelled after him, rubbing his upper arm and turning to Johnston, "You know, apparently you're the envy of the medical world?" He raised his eyebrows, "I don't concur."

Johnston smiled, "Oh really? Maybe now we can be friends." He rolled his eyes and brushed past the surgeon, making a note of bumping the man's shoulder as he did so.

He veered around the corner and headed to the dorm where Max was being kept for observation and treatment. The door was open – Alec's way of informing Johnson that the man was welcome to enter if he so wished.

He proceeded with caution, walking quietly into the room and instantly finding the steady pitch of Max's heart monitor reassuring. She didn't look much better then she had when he'd laid eyes on her at the operating table, but at least this time Max had somebody by her side.

Alec stood at the side of her bed, arms crossed and brow furrowed as he watched Max's chest rise and fall in rejuvenating sleep. The multitude of wires crisscrossing her body and the red and white IV drips which simultaneously filtered life-giving fluid into her body gave the scene an eerily familiar tone, and Johnston found himself wondering exactly how many times Alec had had to see his family in this state.

He was sure it exceeded his own count. And that one was skyrocketing.

The glaring difference this time around was the indifferent – almost angry – expression Alec wore as he gazed down at his unconscious mate.

Johnston took the plunge and cleared his throat, "I can have them move her to Recovery if you think it's…"

"It's fine." Alec stated quietly, eyes never moving from Max as he spoke, "She's probably gonna try and pull a runner as soon as she's awake knowing Max, so it's better if she's somewhere where there's higher security and bitchier doctors to pacify her _overwhelming_ desire to jump into the fire before she's out of the frying pan."

Johnston winced at the harsh tone in Alec's voice as he spoke the words, "Alec, I'm sure she's…"

"Yeah whatever." Alec uncrossed his arms and headed towards the door, "I got a meeting to get to. If she wakes up, tell her I was here."

"Alec, wait." Johnston risked clasping a hand on the man's jacket, and he was fortunate enough to have enough drawing power in his account of good graces with Alec for the transgenic to actually pause for a moment and cast him a stony, querying expression.

"What?"

Johnston didn't know _what_. He just hated it when Alec got this angry with his family. Despite the frequent quarrelling his medical charges were so famous for, if there was one thing Johnston did know it was that Max, Brac and Nyxie secretly worshipped the ground Alec walked on in their own separate ways. The mutual need between the McDowells was their most potent binding tie, but for the longest time now, Johnston had come to regard Alec as the cornerstone when it came to all things McDowell. If ever 494 buckled under a weight, the entire family would take a nosedive from which it took them months to recover.

Johnston guessed it was one of the reasons that he really just hated seeing Alec this upset. Next up on the list was likely the fact that a crowd of six or seven thugs would probably pile into hospital with Alec's boot print on their asses over the course of the next 24 hours.

McDowells and their coping methods…

"Be careful."

Johnston watched Alec's eyebrows rise up ever so slightly before a grin curled at one corner of his mouth.

"I'm always careful."

"Right, of course." Johnston swallowed and let out a nervous chuckle. It was truer then the sardonic ring to it had given credence. Of all the McDowell clan, Alec came last in regards to frequent ER trips…second only to Nyxie, of course. But the kid was so comparatively overprotected that she didn't really come up on the radar.

Alec nodded and cuffed Johnston on the arm before he headed swiftly down the hall.

"Go get'em, Tiger!" Johnston yelled with an enthusiasm he never felt in regards to Max and Alec having to tackle the Ordinary crime world when they had enough on their plates with the transgenics.

Alec lifted a fist in the air as he stalked around the corner and disappeared out of sight.

Johnston sighed and ran a hand over his bald patch as he gazed forlornly at the sleeping woman in the hospital bed.

"Max, I don't know what you did this time, but just to warn you," He reached down and patted her hand sympathetically, "you're in deep shit when you wake up."

* * *

Alec had barely made it out of the hospital before his cell phone pealed indignantly.

He glanced at the caller ID and quickly thumbed it to his ear. "Nyxie, tell me you got something good."

"It's in the works, Dad." Nyx's voice rang confidently through the receiver, "Sherrie can't get us what we need but she is getting us someone who can."

"Who's that?" Alec queried as he headed towards his Ninja in the parking lot.

"Some guy called Yuri, Reeco's bro or something. You know him?"

"Yeah I do. Guy's a shitbag, Nyxie, and I don't mean that affectionately." Alec often had to clarify his implication when it came to name-slinging with his children. That mostly was due to the fact he and Max's terms of endearment rang to the tune of 'idiot' and 'wierdo'.

Yeah they were juvenile. Max had told him that Logan had once said he hoped her and Alec's relationship would 'mature'. Alec had responded there was no way in hell they were becoming a 'cuddly couple' who had pet names for each other like 'snugglebumps' and 'sugarlump'.

"Yeah well he's our only lead, Dad, so I gotta take it. How's Mom?" Nyx made her statement flatly and then quickly switched topics. Alec rolled his eyes.

"She's fine. Post-op, she's sleeping. Where are you right now?"

"Sector 6, moving in for the sweep."

"Well move back out and twiddle your thumbs for half an hour." Alec zipped up his jacket with one hand, "We'll go in together."

"Yeah cuz as soon as he sees your face, he's gonna welcome you with open arms." Nyx snorted.

Alec chuckled dutifully for a second before his tone became sarcastic, "Just smack yourself upside the head and spare me the effort."

"Look, Dad, you can't do anything before you talk to Brac." Nyx suddenly sounded earnest, and Alec's eyebrows narrowed dubiously.

"What? Why?"

"He called me five minutes ago, totally freaked out. Said Reeco called him to give him an earful about Mom busting out and told him he was gonna kill Casey and the baby in retribution."

Nyx's words caused Alec to close his eyes and sink his face into his palm. He should've seen this coming. He had, in fact – but he'd expected Reeco to direct the full heat of his ire at Alec, not Brac.

"Did Brac talk about going anywhere, was he with somebody, what?" He queried intently, and Nyx's sigh blew frustratedly into the phone.

"I think he was at the apartment, I dunno." She paused and when she spoke again, her voice quivered like it used to when she was eight, "He's really upset, Dad. I haven't heard him scared like this in ages. You gotta talk to him!"

"I will." Alec assured his daughter, trying to ignore the thundering in his chest at the very real fear that Brac, who was already on edge due to his withdrawals and the delicate situation, would let himself be pushed by Reeco into charging headfirst to an open confrontation.

If that were to occur, then genetically enhanced or not, Brac would be fucking toast before he stepped through the door. And Reeco would likely make Casey watch – because obviously, the drug lord would never be so stupid as to trash his last playing card over losing an ace in the form of Max Guevara.

Brac had to know that – didn't he? Alec wished to god the kid would actually try to mirror some of his parent's positive traits every once in a while…like logic and common sense.

"Okay but hurry, because I'm really afraid he's gonna go and do something half-assed and get himself killed." Nyx was sounding unabashedly distressed now, and Alec tossed the wry wondering that his son hadn't given him and Maxie consecutive heart attacks yet hastily aside.

"Don't worry about it, Nyxie. I'll take care of it." He felt a snowflake dither onto his forehead and wiped the black leather cresting his bike's seat.

"Right, I gotta dash. See you later."

"Nyx, hold up…" Alec began, but the line went dead. With a growl, he leant against the side of his Ninja as he hit the speed-dial on his phone and held it once again to his ear.

He didn't have to wait very long. It was only a moment before Brac answered on the other end.

"Hello?"

"Brac, s'me. What's going on?"

Brac's voice was shaking heavily and low in his throat, "I dunno, I don't know what's happening. Reeco called me and said Mom was out on the loose and that we'd busted terms or something and…and then he said he was gonna put a bullet in Casey's head and oh my god, Dad, she's got my baby and I didn't even…"

"Okay, look, just calm down for a minute, alright?" Alec interrupted the ridiculously steady stream of panic from his son, "He's lying to you, Brac, alright? You gotta trust me on this one."

"No, Dad, Reeco doesn't lie, okay?" Brac half-yelled half-sobbed, "I mean, why would he do that? What does he possibly have to gain?"

"You workin' yourself into a fit and throwing yourself into his hands just to get Casey outta there, that's what." Alec retorted, "Brac, you gotta pull it together now, alright? Cuz I can tell you from personal experience that Reeco _does_ lie and that this is _exactly_ what he wants from you right now!"

Brac was inhaling heavily now, clearly still upset but trying at least to get a grip on himself. Alec seized the window of obedience and worked quickly to diffuse the rest of the time bomb before it ticked down to zero and Brac let his McDowell genes burn him out on the altar of sarcrifice for no good reason.

"Now listen; Reeco's not gonna lay a finger on Casey, alright? She's the only thing he's got on you right now and that means he's gonna take real good care of her…"

"Did you know she was pregnant, Dad?" Brac demanded, voice thick and flaring with a flurry of emotions.

"Not till the phone call I got from your mom a second before she passed out from loss of freaking blood and a bullet in the shoulder." Alec's choice of words as much as his tone reminded Brac that there were other pressing issues at stake upon which his attentions were focused.

"Is she okay?" Brac queried instantly, fear and suspicion still prominent in his voice but concern overriding both.

"Yeah she'll pull through, you know your mom." Alec heard the bitter edge to his own words and kicked himself for it. He just hoped Brac, who was normally very observant when it came to Alec's emotions, would be too preoccupied to notice.

"We gotta do something, Dad. We can't just let him get away with this!" Brac's hoarse voice rising several octaves cause Alec to roll his eyes.

"Yeah that's what's gonna happen, Brac, alright? Listen up, okay; we gotta go to this meeting, you and I. Reeco'll be there – we'll work it out…"

"No, that's bullshit, it's not gonna fly!" Brac insisted mordnalty, "He just wants us all fucking dead, Dad. If we go to that meeting, we'll be walking right into it."

"Well what exactly is your aggrandized counterplan here, Brac?" Alec demanded in a slightly harsher tone, "Cuz I'm not seein' a grand spread of options."

"We cut the fucking meeting and we go to the one Reeco's hosting at The Vixen tonight with the A.S supporters!" Brac retorted matter-of-factly, and Alec crinkled up his nose.

"Huh?"

Brac sighed impatiently, "Logan and Nyx first got wind of it today and then Nyxie wrung it outta Sherrie. It's going down like asap and it's our best shot at cracking this damn thing."

"Do we know when?" Alec queried as he swung himself into his bike.

"Nyxie's finding out."

"She is, huh." Alec's jaw clenched at the underlying insinuation, and Brac seemed to catch the wavelength.

"Dad, she's fine. She's got this."

"You know sometimes I think you forget your sister's eighteen and not twenty-one the way her fake ID likes to claim." Alec kicked his bike into life as he began to inch it out of the parking lot, "So what was the plan, Brac? You charge in wired up and Nyx calls me to do damage control once your guts are on display?"

Brac huffed indignantly, "Why do you guys always have to everything sound so _dramatic_?"

Alec's eyebrows shot up and he bit back a retort to the tune of the pot calling the kettle black.

He was _not_ dramatic.

"Whatever. Where are you now?"

"At the apartment, crawling the fucking walls!"

Alec rolled his eyes – case in point.

"Okay well get your ass down here and keep tabs on your mom." Alec squinted at the street light which danced off his rear-view mirror, "Last thing we need is Reeco making a grab for her while our backs are turned."

"Well what are _you_ going to do?" Brac's demand reeked of suspicion, and Alec found himself bombarded with so many snappy one-liner responses that he had to pass up the window for a mocking jab – which was probably just as well.

"I'm gonna head to The Vixen…" Alec replied languidly as he pulled up at a stop light and pasted on his token smirk at the dissaproving soccer mom to his right as she caught sight of his phone, "and then I'm gonna go buy a Christmas tree – a really fucking huge one."


	12. Chapter 12

**_Back with another update. One more chapter till this thing's put to bed _**_- THANK GOD. Well I had fun with it :P._**_ I'm very sorry about the horrendous treacle-texture of the updates recently._**_ I need a new laptop..._**_Please review for me!_**_ Take care!_

**_-- Tyler_**

* * *

"Can I see some identification?"

Nyx's lips formed a pout of irritation as she made a point of rolling her heavily made-up eyes at the short, non-descript security guard spearheading Yuri Reeco's team.

"Sure thing." She kept a hint of ire to her tone as she slipped a hand into the bodice of the leather corset she was wearing beneath her open trenchcoat and produced a plastic ID card.

"Like I said," Nyx tilted her head to the side, boredom etched across her stunning features as the man eyeballed her pass warily, "Reeco assigned a batch of my girls to head up the after-meeting entertainment. I need to set up shop now, so if you're done with the third degree, I'd like to get a move on."

"You need to speak to Yuri because?" The man raised his eyebrows suspiciously as he waved Nyx through the lobby and into a function room brimming with men in heavy overcoats.

"Just talking business, sweetie." Her eyes scanned the room, casing every resident and determining her course of action. "Shouldn't take us long. Just gotta work out the whys and wherefores."

The security guard cast Nyx a bland expression before he motioned for her to step forward, "Suit yourself. He's the one in navy blue. Over there, by the window."

"Got it." Nyx stated as her eyes trailed to meet her target. His back was turned, but from what she could make out, he was tall and well-built – maybe this wasn't going to be as cringe-worthy as Nyx had anticipated.

Then he turned, and Nyx felt her heart literally do a figure-of-eight.

Sharp, inquisitive blue eyes pierced her own, first squinting in surprise before widening in recognition.

Yuri excused himself from the crowd of associates with which he was conversing and crossed the distance between him and Nyx in a matter of seconds – too few seconds to allow a stunned Nyx to plan the spin of events.

"Natasha?" He queried, his voice low and his eyebrows knit in surprise as Nyx's mouth opened but no words came forth, "Is it really you? What the hell are you doing here?"

Nyx swallowed heavily before her smile blossomed once more and her voice came to life, "Nick. I had no idea you were related to Jimmy Reeco."

The man's face, creased with the beginning stages of aging yet still chiseled with the confidence of youth, twisted in disgust, "I don't think the circumstances of our meeting really _catered_ to the revelation, do you?"

Nyx's smile became genuine for a split second, though her heart was still throbbing in her chest, "Guess not."

Yuri raised an eyebrow and glanced about him as he spoke, "So, what are you doing here? I would say I hope it's for Round Two, but then again," He scowled pointedly at several vicious-looking thugs in the corner, "_circumstances_."

Nyx's grin broadened, taking on a sultry edge as one of her eyebrows rose, "This is a big hotel. I'm betting Room 243 is still vacant." She watched the glimmer of recognition –and lust- glimmer in the Ordinary's eyes, and leaning forward, lowered her voice to a whisper, "I'm sure they can spare you ten minutes."

Yuri's eyes closed briefly (at Nyx's scent, and she knew it too) and his mouth tightened as he sighed in annoyance, "Natasha…"

"Or not." Nyx offered breezily as she stepped away from him and became all business once more, "Since you seem to be having so much fun, I'll just be on my way…"

"Wait."

Nyx had barely turned to depart when Yuri's hand wrapped around her wrist and halted her in her tracks. She smiled to herself as she felt his breath on her neck and heard the whisper of his voice.

"Ten minutes. You know where I'll be."

_Gotcha_. Nyx quickly smothered her grin into a studiously blank expression as a group of mafiosas sent suspicious glances her way. The young transgenic quickly exited the room, heading to the elevators and thumbing the button without another word.

So things hadn't exactly swung the way she'd initially mapped out – the major loop-knocker being the fact that Yuri Reeco apparently had an alias named Nick Sutton and posed as hotel staff in his spare time. Nyx still couldn't get her head around the schematics of it all – nor the irony.

_It's probably best to keep the extra info under wraps_. Nyx informed herself as she watched the floors whiz by and tried to ignore the ogling of a middle-aged business man who boarded halfway through._ Dad and Brac will have a __fit__ if they find out I slapped skins with the guy…not that Brac's in __any__ position to lecture me on grinding pelvis with the Reeco's. _

The lift pinged merrily, and Nyx squared her slim shoulders as the doors parted and she strode onto the floor. Everything was eerily familiar – the potted plants standing at attention lining the walls, the twining wallpaper, the faintly-visible wine stain on the carpeting…

_He had laughed at her freak-out when she'd jumped him the moment they'd exited the lift and knocked the wine bottle clear out of the hands he'd gripped her firm body with instead. Nyx had been swearing at the spill through her muffled giggles – he'd just rolled his eyes and shoved her through the doorway to a room…_

Nyx closed her eyes and shook her head to clear it as she moved on down the hall, pausing outside a dark oak door with a gold-plated numerical inscription…room 243.

The door was already open several inches, and her hand hovered fleetingly over the door handle for a moment before she pushed it fully open determinedly. Somehow the flutter of her heartbeat gave credence to the eerie whirlwind in her mind – a wind that whispered Nyx might be biting off more then she could chew.

True to her patent McDowell blood, Nyx ignored it all, stepping into the hotel room confidently and pressing door closed softly behind her.

It was like walking into the past. Everything was as she'd left it – the open window, the red velvet curtains whipping cheerily in the frozen winter breeze, the rumpled bedsheets on the floor, the champagne bottle in the an ice bucket…

Nyx jumped suddenly, her breath sucking itself back into her mouth as a strong arm wrapped itself tightly around her neck and something cold and sharp pressed firmly enough against her jugular vein to break the skin.

"Jimmy send you here?" Yuri ground out matter-of-factly as he kept her grip tightly around Nyx's neck and the knife inching methodically deeper into the arch of her neck.

"Put the knife down, don't be an idiot." Nyx responded in like manner, her hands tensing into tight fists by her hips as she braced herself to for a fight.

"Did you really think I wouldn't smell his rats a mile off by now, Natasha?" Yuri's breath was warm and virulent in her ear as he continued, "Just save the remnants of your dignity and tell me exactly what my brother wants from me that I'm not going to give him."

Nyx rolled her eyes, "This has nothing to do with Jimmy…"

"Oh is that right?" Yuri scoffed, and Nyx's teeth clenched behind closed lips as he began to drag the knife down her neck, leaving a stripe of blood in its wake, "So what's the job then?"

Nyx sighed, and then her hand clamped around Yuri's wrist, yanking the blade away from her neck as she pulled the arm he had wrapped around her neck and used it to flip him clear over her shoulder. The drug lord fell with a thud on the ground in front of Nyx, glancing up at her in honest surprise as she raised an eyebrow and held up the knife she'd wrenched from his grip.

"I'm not here for trouble, Nick." She flipped the blade shut as he rose to his feet and threw her a cautious glare.

"Then what do you want?"

"A lot of things," Nyx stated, stalking over to the table and taking hold of the champagne bottle as Yuri's eyes followed her every movement, "Namely to spend one Christmas with my family that isn't angst-ridden and stewing in the past." She squinted at the label and then smiled as she gripped the nozzle and popped it open, "But since I don't see that happening this year…" Nyx snatched the two glasses which lay in wait beside the ice bucket and filled them to the brim, "how about we play a game instead?"

Yuri rolled his eyes and took up residence on a cushy armchair a short ways off from the young transgenic. "Unless it's a game that involves you bent over that table sometime in the next…" He glanced at the Rolex gracing his left wrist, "seven minutes, I think you're going to have to find yourself an alternative playmate."

"You'll like this game, I promise." Nyx smiled as she handed Yuri a glass of sparkling champagne and then perched on the arm of his chair as she sipped her own, "It's called Secret Santa."

"It doesn't sound very kinky." He said dryly, knocking back a gulp of his drink before setting the glass down on the desk to their left and raising an eyebrow at Nyx.

"It's not." Nyx responded shortly, "This is how it goes, Nick." She noticed him flinch slightly at the tone in which she spoke his alias name, "We do each other a favor – a really big one."

He blinked at her, "Would this favor involve getting to put my candy cane in your stocking at any point in this fucking useless…ow!" He lurched forward as Nyx slapped him viciously upside the head.

"No, now listen up." Nyx propped one high-heeled boot upon the chair of the arm and leant forward slightly as Yuri glared at her, "You tell me where your brother's keeping Casey Trendon," She watched his face harden into rock as she continued, "And I get rid of your little Jimmy problem for you as an early Christmas present."

The mafiosa's eyebrows rose as he digested the information for a moment before his tongue flicked across his lips and he threw Nyx a tight smile of skepticism.

"I'm listening."

* * *

Max stirred, her eyes squeezing together before opening slowly as they adjusted to the lights of the hospital room.

A hospital…

Max's heart began to pound faster in her chest and her head snapped sharply to the side as she caught sight of the monitor machine beside her bed beginning to pump up the temp.

It was then that Max became aware of the multiple wires and devices attached to her body. She cringed at a dull pain in her shoulder as she shifted in the bed and attempted to sit up.

"Easy, Mom, you're gonna pull a stitch."

Max glanced quickly to her left to see her son seated in a chair beside the hospital bed, eyes glued to a file in one hand while he twirled a pen with the other.

"Hey." Max mumbled as she appraised Brac's appearance with a swift once-over. He still looked pale and worn, but the red circles around his eyes had begun to disappear. She noticed a nasty, crescent-shaped bruise blotching his cheekbone and wondered with some alarm exactly how it had appeared there.

"Would you cut that out?" Brac muttered, eyes still scanning the file as he tapped the pen against the side of his skull, "I'm not the one in an ER bed."

"For once." Max responded weakly as she propped herself up on her elbows only to wince and feel a hot wave of pain in her chest as it tightened, "Damn it."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, Mom. Just chill out, okay?" Brac had placed the file down and was suddenly easing her back onto the pillows, "You're only just outta surgery."

"It was just a gunshot wound." Max waved him off as she attempted to sit up once more, only to be met with a scathing pair of green eyes which bore enough of a resemblance to Alec's to cause her insides to shirk back guiltily.

"How long was I out?"

"'Bout five hours or so. I dunno." Brac stated as he resumed his seat, "But you nearly punctured a ventricle, so pipe down. Earth's still spinning on its axis."

"Not that I'm complaining, but what are you doing here?" Max queried as she leant back against the bed with a groan of irritation for her injuries, "Aren't you meant to be laying low?"

"Yeah well, you know Dad." Brac scoffed as he returned his attention to the file in his hand, "World's biggest rule-bender once he decides it's advantageous."

Max's lips tightened slightly as she glanced down at the bedspread, "Your dad show up?"

Brac shrugged, "Guess so, since he told me to haul ass here and look out for you. He was gone by the time I made it down. 'Course, chances are he was watching from the rafters just to make sure I didn't take the turn-off for Sector 6."

Max narrowed her eyebrows curiously, "What's in Sector 6?"

"Reeco." Brac informed her bluntly, "There's a huge dig at the The Vixen with Shitbag and his like-minded cronies." The young man stretched before glancing at his watch, "Should be going down about now. Dad went to smoke'em out."

"Alone?" Max queried, and her voice rang with something akin to fear underneath the contempt it manifested for her mate's recklessness.

"Well Nyxie was at The Vixen pulling a lead on Casey, but," Brac stood up and ran a hand through his hair, "knowing Dad, he's gonna keep her on the bleachers till 'push comes to shove'…a.k.a till hell freezes over."

"Typical." Max muttered, rolling her eyes at Alec's visage in her mind as she sat up once more, "Tell me he's at least got some back-up on standby."

Brac's eyebrow raise confirmed Max's fears.

"Great." She sat up, this time ignoring the pain in her chest as she began to unwire herself, much to Brac's amusement.

"What do you think you're doing?" He queried in an accusatory, almost mocking vein identical to Alec's 'yeah dream on' tone.

"Your dad's walking into a room full of mafiosa packrats. I'm not gonna let him go down swinging." Max stated defiantly as she swung her legs over the edge of the bed and looked around for her clothes.

"Yeah and how much help do you think you're gonna be?" Brac crossed his arms and glared at his mother, "Seriously Mom, you're busted to fuck. Reeco's guys took you out when you weren't."

"They were playing dirty." Max protested breezily as she stood up with difficulty, and Brac rolled his eyes before shoving her (carefully) back onto her ass on the bed.

"Hey!" Max ground out, eyes widening into a Guevara glare as Brac stood over with his arms folded.

"Don't 'hey' me, you're the one bein' ridiculous here." Brac admonished, before he proceeding to launch a scathing lecture worthy of both his parents combined, along the lines of common sense, tactical retreats and handcuffs.

It got old about five minutes later. Max finally threw her hands up in frustration (then inhaled sharply at the searing pain that blazed through her upper body as a result).

"Okay you know what, Brac, how about shutting up?" She muttered, and Brac seemed highly pleased with that response.

"Ooh, what's wrong, Mom, can't handle a little dose of your own medicine?"

"What're you on about?" Max grumbled as she eased herself back into bed under the smug smirk gracing her son's face.

"You 'n Dad only used that tactic on me a gazillion times, is all. You know," Brac scrunched up his face into a mocking expression, "'repetition is the law of memory' and all that crap."

"That was Logan's theory." Max reminded her son turgidly.

"Figures," He nodded, "You guys got all your annoying parenting ideas from that guy – like uh…" Brac snapped his fingers together several times before he locate the absent thought, "reverse psychology. God, that one was just ridiculous."

Max rolled her eyes, "Reverse psychology's a _very_ common practice and happens to be one your dad and I were taught at Manticore _long_ before Logan ever suggested it."

"Whatever. I still maintain you two were a picture of innocence for the first five years of my life till the Cales moved back to Seattle." Brac slouched in his seat and glanced at one of Max's many monitors, "After that, it all went sour."

Max leant her head back on the pillow and closed her eyes in irritation at the sorry state of her body, "Whatever, Brac." She paused and opened her eyes once more to glance at the file in his hands, "What's that?"

"College crap. Still gotta study if I want to graduate, you know." Brac responded shortly as he slammed the file shut and reached out to pull the blanket over Max, "Just get some sleep."

"Yeah sure, cuz I can really nod off to Dreamland with your dad jumping feet-first into the shark pool." Max growled sarcastically, "God I can't believe after twenty years of conditioning he could still be such an idiot! I mean, what is he thinking?"

"I think we both know the answer to that question." Brac offered dryly, "It's been the same damn wavelength ever since I was born."

"Ugh, way before that, even." Max shifted in her bed and then realized her eyelids were becoming heavy, "Brac, can you do me a favor?"

His green eyes flicked up cautiously, "Depends."

"If you see your dad before I can freaking sit up without tearing a stitch," Max mumbled as she rested her left cheek again the pillow and her eyes dropped closed, "slug him in the nose for me really, really hard?"

Brac smiled dismally and stood up as Max's breathing became deep and even and her heart rate slowed to a docile series of bleeps.

"Sure thing, Mom." He whispered before setting the file down on the desk beside her bed and walking for the door, "By the way? Merry Christmas."

* * *

"Gentlemen." Jimmy Reeco spread his hands to the small crowd of smartly-dressed individuals who stood milling about a dingy basement room of The Vixen hotel, "Ladies," Reeco nodded towards the room's one female resident, "welcome."

The ten-odd narcotic spearheads uttered various guarded sentiments in response, some never taking their eyes off Reeco and his bodyguard, others glancing up at the hissing piping surrounding them with disdain.

"I will not waste time reiterating the tie that binds us all, American, French, English, Russian, German," Reeco's eyes danced to the respective individuals as he spoke the words, "and brings us to this place tonight. Instead, I will cut directly to the point."

The drug lord reached into his jacket pocket, and a smile crossed his lips as several of the room's occupants jumped uneasily, their hands disappearing inside their coats and their lips pressing into a thin line.

"Friends." Reeco admonished as he produced a cigar case and flicked it open, evidently relishing the jarring effect he still held over such an influential group, "A little goodwill, if you please. Now," He opened a palm and clasped his fingers around the cigar lighter an assistant placed there in response, "Many of you have heard, I am sure, the mysterious rumors circulating our networks that I am in possession of a very unique individual."

A tall, dark-haired man cleared his throat before speaking, "We had heard that you had been successful in abducting Max Guevara, but," the German in his accent shone through thicker as he raised an eyebrow scornfully, "we ascertained this could not possibly be correct."

"Ah, but correct it is." Reeco smiled broadly as he heaved in a puff of smoke from the cigar between his lips, "My aides drafted a trap for Guevara and were able to execute it successfully."

"But you couldn't keep her." A cold-looking male with a Bronx twang to his voice spoke up acidly, and Reeco raised his eyebrows at the man as he continued, "My people got wind of Max Guevara's rather dramatic escape from your custody earlier in the day."

"It's true." Reeco acknowledged as he blew out a breath of smoke, "She escaped. But not before I'd taken what I needed from her."

"And what was that?" The American man queried with a sardonic raise of his eyebrows, "One day's worth of nookie?"

The lines around Reeco's eyes tightened as he forced out a smile of contempt, "DNA." He twirled his cigar in his fingers and watched with satisfaction at the flurry of non-verbal responses which wove through the small crowd.

"That's right, my friends." He clapped his hands together and called attention to his oration once more, "My scientists are presently examining DNA and blood from Max Guevara with one goal in mind;" He raised a finger and his voice thickened somewhat, "To recreate a being of her genetic perfection."

"We already tried this with her son." The lone woman, a crisp-looking blonde with a crisp British accent, stepped forward caustically, "Brac McDowell's blood samples conjured up nothing but a temporary surge in our vanguard's abilities."

Reeco shrugged plaintively, "True enough. But a clone has never been attempted."

"For good reason." The woman retorted, crossing her arms over the lapel of her suit jacket and eyeing Reeco coldly, "A.S's lab team has never come close to mastering that sort of test tubing. The faetus' never see daylight for more then fifteen hours before they bite the dust."

"Which is why I have a plan B." Reeco responded, flicking his fingers at an assistant and taking another drag at his cigar, "Max Guevara was not my only captive, ladies and gentlemen." Behind the drug lord, the bare, cracking wall was suddenly awash with the light from a slide projector, "Still in my custody is a young woman who I believe some of you may remember from a good number of years back."

"Casey Trendon." Stated the British woman with an impatient sigh, "We know, Reeco. But what on earth has this bloody got to do with anything? The girl's a drop in the bucket of teenagers who had their chance and fobbed it. She's nothing but a dud."

Reeco sighed as he tapped the tail-end of his cigar against his palm, "I'm afraid you've never been more wrong, Miss Wilkinson. Casey presently carries inside of her the tangible realization of Adeventus Secondum. Observe." He waved a hand at the wall before turning his back to assembly as a gritty ultrasound picture appeared against the light.

"I give you the flesh child of Brac McDowell – and yes," Reeco stated gleefully, "It's a boy."

There was silence – thick, oppressive, floored.

Finally a voice spoke up from the far side of the room, "Do we _really_ want to go down this road again, people?"

Reeco blinked, mouth tightening as the drug lords turned to the gaze at the fiercely handsome male standing behind them, hands tucked into his jacket and face set into an almost deadly expression of calm.

"I mean you already went there once, didn't you?" Alec kept green, challenging eyes locked grimly on Reeco as he began to walk slowly through the crowd, "With Brac? You guys decided he was gonna be your Green Card to whatever freaky plan you got up on your billboard." Alec raised his eyebrows briefly as he nodded at Reeco, "See but Max and I weren't exactly down with that idea, and newsflash? We're not cool with this one either."

Reeco's eyes shifted from the crowd back to the transgenic who was now several choice meters away from him. The other drug lords were standing stock-still, some watching Alex while others threw Reeco pointed glances of complete panic.

"Alec." Reeco cleared his throat and raised an eyebrow at the ultrasound slide at his back, "Welcome back. It's been a while since you graced one of these meetings with your presence. Too long, in fact. We've missed your scathingly sarcastic contributions."

"Yeah well sorry to disappoint my public, but I'm fresh out of those at the moment." Alec responded, eyes flickering to the screen behind Reeco before they locked with the drug lord's once more, "What're you gonna do, Reeco? Raise him to be your little blood bank and hope by the time you've sucked him dry you'll have bred him with enough of your skanks to keep the flow semi-pure?"

"Better then that." Reeco smiled acidly, "If you must know," He sucked at his cigar as he took a step closer to Alec, accepting Alec's subliminal challenge, "your grandson is going to be the stepping stone bridging the gap between blood _transfusion_ and blood _transformation_. We'll find a way to clone – it's only a matter of time. And with the child, there will be unlimited chances."

"So that's the idea?" Alec's eyebrows crinkled up, "No offense but it's a walking pile of shit – kinda like it's mastermind, although," The X5's face deadpanned once more, "I wouldn't really put you at that level."

"I've no doubt." Reeco responded evenly, "That was always the one obstacle to our partnership, wasn't it though, Alec?"

Alec glanced to the side before squinting at Reeco, "Uh one of'em, yeah."

"I see." Reeco sounded like he was straining to keep his composed demeanor in the face of Alec's blantant disregard for his opponent, "Well then, it should come as no great shock to you that your presence at this meeting is neither required or desired. Now if you'll excuse us…" He snapped a set of fingers, and Alec didn't even bother stifling the laugh which left his lips.

"What're you gonna sic your _goons_ on me, Reeco? Cuz uh…" The X5 wore a smirk which was far too confident to be anything but unnerving, "last time you tried that it ended with all six of'em jack-tied in the back of a garbage truck enroute to D.C."

Reeco's eyebrows fell, "I recall as much - which is why I have no intention of 'siccing' anybody on you, Alec McDowell. Do you really think I'm still that naïve?"

Alec shrugged, "Dunno, man. You still took another swing at Brac a whole seven years after the last failed attempt."

"This is ridiculous!" Piped up the British drug queen from amidst the crowd of spellbound narc lords as she shoved her way forward and threw both men a scathing glare, "We don't have time for this."

"Wilkinson." Alec's smile was tight and anything but friendly, "Been a while."

Her retaliatory glower was less then promising.

"Hey, you uh still wear those Snoopy thongs o' yours?" Alec bobbed his eyebrows, but the acerbic tone suddenly left his voice (and face) as the woman promptly drew a .44 and trained it on him, "Whoa now," He raised his hands and his eyebrows, "Let's not do anything hasty."

She smiled with a brow-arch of her own, "Like this?"

The shot rang loud and clear – and ricocheted off the piping on the wall opposite the woman. Alec was long gone, behind her in a flash as he twisted the gun from her grasp and took a triumphant step backwards.

"Nah more like that." He eyed the gun in his hand, "Impressive. And I thought weapons weren't allowed in these kinda meetings."

"Enough of this!" Reeco stated flatly, shoving his associate aside as he clapped his hands loudly together and cast a glance at his aide, "Where is she?"

The spindly man lifted his ear from the static crackling on his radio, "Uh…Ronan's guys aren't responding."

Reeco's eyes narrowed sharply, "What?"

* * *

Nyx jumped back from the splintering wood that had once been the chair she had just smashed over Ronan's head.

"Come on!" Nyx yelled, grabbing Casey's hand and pulling her swiftly over to a hole in the wall, at which Casey's face twisted.

"A laundry shoot?" She clutched her womb protectively and Nyx raised her eyebrows severely.

"This place doesn't have air vents, now MOVE!" The transgenic girl promptly tipped Casey's feet up and pushed her down the shoot, "I'll meet you at the bottom!"

Nyx was suddenly struck down by a plank of wood from the broken chair to the head.

Ronan wiped some blood from his lip as he loomed over her, "You're not going anywhere, bitch!"

Nyx's face clenched determinedly and she scissored her legs in his, sending the large man crashing to the floor. She didn't waste a second as she dove on him and slammed her fist across his face.

Ronan merely laughed the slug, to which Nyx responded with a second jab of her fist. He caught it in his iron grip and yanked her down meet a head-butt which sent Nyx slamming onto her back with its sheer force.

Nyx flipped her legs over her head and rolled onto her feet just in time to avoid Ronan's boot slamming into her stomach.

"What the hell are you?" She hissed through grit teeth as Ronan circled her with a wide smile and teeth coated with blood.

"Oh you haven't figured it out?" He queried, "Maybe this'll jog your memory, though really it's all a bit before your time." He swung out a kick which Nyx avoided, then flung out another as soon as his body twisted to help the first foot hit the floor. Nyx lurched back with the blow of the kick and slammed against the wallpaper of the hotel room, eyes burning.

Ronan shrugged at her, "Fenostol."

"Oh Christ," She rolled her eyes viciously, "Not you whackos again."

"Ditto, bitch." Ronan flashed her a grin before Nyx lashed forward to attack him once more.

* * *

"Ronan, come in, Ronan…" The aide attempted once more before he glanced up at his boss with a helpless expression.

Reeco seethed inwardly as he turned to glare at Alec, who had donned his infamous poker face and was giving the man a perfectly blank expression in response.

"Alec…" Reeco smiled viciously as the transgenic raised an eyebrow, "I would venture it's safe to assume this has something to do with you."

Alec glanced to the side in thought for a moment before he shrugged and raised his eyebrows briefly at the mafiosa, "Maybe. Couldn't really say for sure, although," He sniffed and flashed the drug lord a belligerent smile, "I guess we have to factor my hard-headed children into the equation, and you never really know with those Wild Cards."

"Is that so?" Reeco ran a hand across his jaw as he inhaled deeply, "Of course then there is Max Guevara in the cake mix as well. Oh wait, no…that's right." His eyes darkened triumphantly, "My men shot her in the back."

A surge of malcontent ruffled through the small crowd of drug lords. Evidently the majority of them felt that poking a bear with a stick when said bear wasn't chained was not Reeco brightest self-preserving move.

Alec, for his part, remained silent as Reeco continued, bringing his cigar back up to his lips as he spoke.

"I suppose that's a drop in the bucket, though, to what I'm about to do now." He stepped closer to Alec until their faces were only inched apart and lowered his voice, "I'm going to take your grandson, Alec. And then I'm going to kill his mother and send your little boy his princess' organs in a parcel box. Now what…" Reeco eyed him up and down as Alec's face remained cold and emotionless, "_exactly_…do you make of that? Hmm?"

Complete silence reigned as the room's occupants watched with bated breath for the X5 to come up with a response.

Alec nodded slightly as a dangerous smile curled at the edges of his lips while his eyes glimmered with foreboding.

Then he swung out, slamming his fist across Reeco's face with enough to force to send the man crashing to the ground, blood streaming from his nose.

"Fire at will!" Hollered the mousy assistant as he retreated to a patch of unscathed piping, and Reeco's bodyguard had immediately drawn a total of six firearms on Alec's blurring form. Shots echoed through the basement and bounced off the walls, sending the room into a state of frenzy. The narcotics dealers, all of whom had been stripped of their guns on entering the hotel (Wilkinson had clearly managed to make herself an exception), immediately made a panicked beeline for the stairwell.

"Where'd he go?" One of the burly security guards standing over Reeco aimed his gun around him in a complete one-eighty as he scanned the perimeter for Alec.

"Could be anywhere. Let's just get the Boss out of here and lock the place down." Another man added as he helped Reeco to his feet and backed towards the door, "We can call Yuri's guys in once we're clear."

The basement room suddenly erupted with a violent hiss of steaming oxygen as several pipe valves simultaneously burst open. The air around the small group fogged and overwhelmed their vision as they fumbled frantically to the door, some of them firing random shots into the mist as they did so.

"Just get us out of here!" Reeco's yell was more enraged then it was panicked, and then a startled yell rang clear through the gas shortly before a dull thud.

"Fire Exit's locked!" Called out one of the bodyguards as he yanked fruitlessly at the door handle, "We'll take the stairwell – GO!"

"Look out!" Another man cried, and then a staccato series of shots rang out before another yell met the Ordinaries' ears.

"He's picking us off like flies!" Reeco hissed to the guard with a grip on his collar as the drug lord clutched at his broken nose and glared into the mist, "Call Yuri and tell him to get his people down here NOW!"

* * *

Nyx felt her mouth fill up with blood and she shoved off from the floor with her palms, flipping around and back onto her feet as she dove headlong into Ronan, smashing his head into the marble-top table in the corner of the room. He let out a throaty yell of indignation and threaded his legs through hers as she grabbed his hair to slam his head down once more.

Nyx hit the floor with a thud and dragged Ronan down with her, wrapping her thighs around his torso and rolling on top of him as she kept her grip on his hair and used it to slam her head against his with all her might.

Ronan reached up and grabbed Nyx's biceps tightly as he lifted up his head, "So who'd you have to fuck to find out where we were keeping her, huh?"

Nyx's face flushed (both with indignation and no small amount of chagrin) as she shoved her fists through Ronan's arms and then out, breaking free of his grip and planting a slug across his face.

"How many times'd you have to take it up the ass before Reeco made you Head Boazo?"

He recovered quickly from the punch and flashed her another annoying grin, "Sweet."

"I get that a lot." Nyx responded acidily before she leapt off him and hauled him to his feet. Ronan launched a series of jabs at her, and Nyx blocked two before one got her in the gut. She ducked under his next swing and slammed a leg directly into his crotch with the full measure of her transgenic strength.

Ronan actually doubled over, his face flushing as his breath left him. Nyx smiled, amusement etched over her bruised features as she watched him stagger backwards and gasp at the stale hotel air.

"See, pain may be a phantom of the mind and all," Nyx retracted her fist before whipping it into an upper cut that sent Ronan sprawling onto the floor, "But at the end of the day?" She stood over the semi-conscious man groaning on the ground, "A prick is a still a prick. Fenostol, a-hole." A slam from her boot to his head left Ronan silent and limp on the carpet.

Nyx flicked her hair over her shoulder and nodded as she straightened her jacket. Then she snapped back to reality and moved quickly, stepping over the unconscious bodies of the other bodyguards as she dove down the laundry shoot.

* * *

The fire escape stairwell was packed with the ten or so retreating drug lords as they hastened into the freezing evening air blanketing The Vixen's back courtyard.

No sooner had Wilkinson (being the unspoken leader of the expedition) stepped onto the sleet-covered concrete then her eyes flared up sharply as the other narc dealers froze in their tracks behind her.

"This is the Seattle Police Department!" The voice blaring through the megaphone belonged to an Asian detective who stood behind one of the ten squad cars effectively ensnaring the group, "Put your hands in the air and get down on the ground, and I mean NOW!"

Loud expletives rang out amongst the small crowd and the ones at the back of the stairwell turned hastily to retreat. They were intercepted by a gang of police officers all training weapons rather matter-of-factly at their captives.

Sung couldn't bite back the smile of triumph on his face as he watched Seattle's narcotics hierarchy clasp their hands behind their heads and kneel on the ground while they were cuffed by his officers. He'd been after these sons of bitches for years on end, and thanks to the pieces of evidence hashed together for him by Logan and the individual efforts of the McDowell clan, Sung finally had them in a pinch.

Now if Alec would just stop hogging Reeco so Matt could reel the scumbag in…

"Stairwell's door's locked!"

Reeco glared viciously at his two remaining bodyguards. Alec had been dancing circles around them _and_ their guns for the past ten minutes. "Where's Yuri's team?"

"I don't know, they're not responding."

"Not responding?! Don't any of you have a radio that fucking does its job?" The drug lord bellowed, and his head suddenly whipped up at the sound of the emergency fire exit being kicked in, "Well it's about time!"

And the next thing Reeco knew, his bodyguards were simultaneously kicked in the head and the chest and then slammed in the face with a finishing slug which left them sprawled in a heap on the ground.

"Took the words right outta my mouth."

The voice was unmistakable – as was the face which appeared as a hand clasped around the man's throat and tossed him headlong across the room.

The shouts of Reeco's bodyguard echoed frantically through the mist as the drug lord bounced off some piping and landed moaning on the floor.

Brac was already on him, flipping the man over onto his back and standing over him while he landed slug after slug across his head. Reeco went limp after the first two and as Brac continued relentlessly, the drug lord's eyes began to roll up into his head as blood streamed from his nose and mouth.

Suddenly, Brac's hand was grabbed mid-swing and he was hauled off Reeco and a good few feet away by Alec's hands on his shirt.

"Dad, let me _go_!" Brac began the statement in a rough, low tone and ended it in a yell as he attempted to side-step Alec only to be apprehended and halted in his tracks.

"Forget it! Look, I _know_ you want revenge, Brac, but he is _not_ going down like this, not after _everything_!" Alec insisted, keeping a tight grip on his son's shirt as Brac heaved in deep breaths, eyes burning with raw, unbridled anger that would have shaken Max terribly had she been present, but which fortunately didn't have the same effect on Alec.

It was the age-old elephant in the room for the X5 couple. When Brac got that darkness in his eyes, Alec saw an angry boy. Max saw Ben.

"That's so fucking easy for you to say, Dad! You've had your revenge!" Brac yelled as he yanked Alec's hands off his collar and took a step back.

"Yeah, and you're gonna have yours. The bastard's never setting foot outside a jail again…"

"So that's just it then?" Brac spread his hands, fury oozing from every pore as Alec stared him down, "Reeco spends the rest of his life getting three solid meals and ruling the roost of whatever joint he's locked down in with his mafiosa rep and I'm supposed to let it all slide as fucking even?"

"You think it wasn't the same for me with Bren?" Alec demanded harshly, and Brac's mouth twitched at the familiar name, "I mean she took you away from us for a month, a _month_, and every day felt like a year, but you know what, Brac? She didn't break us," Alec narrowed his eyebrows as Brac scoffed and started forward once more, "and Reeco is _not_ gonna break _you_!"

Brac's brow arched as he nodded viciously, "Not before I _break_ him, now move or _be_ moved, Dad!"

Alec rubbed his jaw wearily then scrubbed the hand across his hair before his eyes trained on his son once more, "You wanna fight me, fine. We can slug it out all you like, hell I'll even let you get in some freebies, but you are _not_ killing Reeco and that's the end of it."

"He took my _baby_!" Brac screamed.

"Yeah well he's not taking _mine_!" Alec yelled in response, the heat of the moment overcoming all else as Brac stiffened at his father's words and the fierce edge that had suddenly darkened his countenance. Both softened instantly as Alec turned to glance over his shoulder at the fallen Reeco who was watching the exchange between the transgenics through semi-conscious eyes.

Alec turned his gaze back to Brac, who was now eyeing Reeco with deep conflict warring on his features.

Alec's heavy sigh brought Brac's eyes, now filled with distress, up to meet his own.

"Look, Brac. You know what I meant by that, right? I mean you've been through so much shit, man, it's insane." Alec's voice was thick with pleading and much as the X5 hated it, he knew it was eroding Brac's hatred, "And I know I'm not one to preach about turning over fresh leaves and all that crap, but I think you 'n I both know somebody who is actually an example of what life can be like if you flip all that shit the bird and just get on with it."

Brac's eyebrows flickered, "If you say Mole…"

Alec smiled wanly at the effort at lightening the mood. Both he and Brac just _hated _mush and gush.

"I'm talking about your mom, Brac."

The sandy-haired younger male bit at his bottom lip tightly and his eyes trailed to the floor for a good long while. Alec said nothing, merely waiting in the silence which remained unbroken by all save the rasp and wheeze of Reeco's breathing and the hiss of the piping.

Finally Brac swallowed heavily and raised his eyes to Alec once more, "I am so using that one as leverage."

Alec rolled his eyes as Brac grinned (though the effort was forced and they both knew it) and poked him in the chest.

"No seriously, you actually chalked Mom up as a Poster Girl for all things wise and wonderful. And it's on tape."

"Oh come on," Alec grimaced as the two turned their backs on the incapacitated Reeco and made their way to the fire exit just as Sung's men began to flood the room with their presence.

"Dude it's not my bad. You shoulda thought twice about opening your mouth when you're wearing a freaking wire." Brac clapped his father on the shoulder and nodded at Sung as the detective greeted them in the stairwell.

"Congratulations." Matt shook their hands fervently and then graced Brac with a knowing smile, "I think there's someone in the lobby who you'll be anxious to see is safe and sound. _Someones_ as a matter of fact." Here he nodded at Alec as the two transgenics began to hike up the stairs "I'll give you a buzz later on."

"Yeah well not for the next twenty four hours, you won't." The X5 reminded him matter-of-factly, "Unless it's to wish us a wonderfully angst-free Christmas and to say you're stoppin' by with a fuck-load of eggnog."

Matt stifled a smirk as Brac's face paled and he clapped a hand over his mouth briefly before raising his eyebrows at Alec.

"Dad not eggnog."

"Oh come on." Alec jabbed him in the shoulder, "Christmas, Brackie-boy!"

"Yeah Christmas!" Brac retorted as he continued up the stairs, "Like the one when I was sixteen and drank that _exact_ number of your ridiculously strong _eggnogs_ and ended up sick for the rest of Christmas Day _and_ the day after that!"

"Not my fault you were hungover."

"No, just your _eggnog's_ fault. You spiked it way too much – even you were drunk."

"I was not. I don't get drunk."

"Well what about the time in Florida with Asha's thirtieth?"

"That wasn't me drunk – that was me in my special happy place."

Matt shook his head and sighed as the transgenic pair walked briskly around the corner and disappeared from sight.

"Some things never change."


	13. Chapter 13

_**Here it is, gang - the final chapter.** You know _every time I finish a story it feels...odd_. Like something's missing (which is, I suppose, my muse greedily demanding more fodder for its temperamental furnace). But** I think I'm also just really attached to the McDowell clan** - writing eight (now nine) stories about the same characters is bound to have that effect on an author, I guess. Anyway enough banter. **REVIEW IT, EVERYBODY! IT'S THE LAST ONE!**_

**_-- Tyler_**

* * *

"What in the _hell_ are you wearing?"

Nyx rolled her eyes at the demand voiced loudly from Alec as both he and Brac glared at the tight leather corset laced to her torso.

"Typical." She smiled with a raise of her eyebrows, "No 'hello', no 'are you okay', no 'thanks for the bail-out'…no, _I_ get 'what are you wearing'!"

Alec and Brac exchanged a look as the latter tightened the arm he had slung over Casey's shoulders and narrowed his eyes suspiciously.

"Wait a second, I recognize that corset…"

"Should hope so, genius – it's Sherrie's!" Nyx retorted as she began to button up her trench coat to hide the offending item.

"And you're wearing it _because_?" Alec grimaced as though that added insult to injury.

"I had to pull the stripper card to get a shot at Yuri. It's not the end of the world." Nyx tucked her ears behind her hair and sighed as Brac and Casey winced at her bruises while Alec's face hardened impassively.

"He do that to you?"

"No, that was Mr Conclave, the guy who worked Mom over before they took her in." Nyx sighed in annoyance as she examined her reflection in one of the decoratibe mirrors in the hotel's lobby, "Do you think the eyebrow split will scar? Cuz I was hoping to pierce that one sometime."

"Is there any way we could go someplace safe?" Casey interjected before Brac and Alec could issue forth whatever scathing sentiments they had for Nyx on their tongues.

"Sure thing. Guys, let's hit the road." Alec clapped his hands together, "Thought we could head to the Cale's since T.C ain't exactly Casey's stomping ground if you know what I mean."

"Actually," Casey cleared her throat as she stepped out from under Brac's arm and gave Alec an apologetic glance, "if you could just get someone to take me home, I would appreciate it."

Alec's brow flickered," You mean your apartment?"

"I mean my dad's place in Iowa." She replied softly, her eyes fixing on Brac as the young man stiffened and his face became a deadpan board of unreadable emotions.

"I'm sorry." Casey was close to tears as she stepped in front of him and gazed up into eyes that were looking through her and not at her, "I just…I need some time. This whole thing…"

"It's fine, just go." Brac responded blandly, and Casey's eyes flooded with unshed tears at the barrier which had suddenly slammed between her and the man who was as deeply knotted into the fabric of her life as the child in her womb.

"Brac…"

"Just call me when you choose." He ordered sharply enough to make her jump slightly, and Casey's face hardened though her eyes still glimmered with tears.

"Fine." She swallowed heavily before her eyes trailed to the floor and she turned to Alec and Nyx, who both appeared to be extremely uncomfortable with the situation and not entirely sure whose side they were meant to be taking.

"Thanks." Casey mumbled softly to Alec, "You know…for everything."

He nodded ever so slightly in response, and his eyes flicked over her shoulder to his son before they rested back on her.

"You gonna be okay?" Alec raised an eyebrow as he motioned with his head towards Casey's slightly expanded womb, and she nodded wanly.

"Till things blow over." Then she forced a trademark Casey smile of bravery which Alec nearly shook for her.

"You know, however much you want to, you can't do this on your own." He lowered his voice and leant forward as he did so, "That kid's gonna need one hell of a bodyguard with his bloodline bein' what it is."

"I know." Casey nodded and twisted a stray lock of hair behind her ear, "I just need to be with my family right now. Well," She rolled her eyes briefly, "My flesh family, at any rate."

Alec ruffled her hair before pulling the petite blonde woman into a gentle hug.

"You be careful now."

"Promise." Casey squeezed his shoulders before pulling away and turning to smile at Nyx, "I can't really thank you guys enough, can I?"

"Nope." Nyx returned cheerfully, "So just hit the road with Sung's guys, Case. They'll get you home." The X5 slugged her in the shoulder softly and Casey beamed in response.

"Tell Max thanks again."

Then she was gone, in a flurry of blue and black and white as she disappeared into the crowd of police roaming the lobby.

Alec and Nyx both exchanged a veiled glance of worry before Brac's snapped statement sliced through the air.

"Don't even think about it." He warned with a stab of his finger, and they rised their eyebrows (and their hands).

"Wasn't gonna."

"Not sayin' a word."

"So now that we're gonna do that switching topic thing we love so much," Alec clapped his hands together and cleared his throat loudly as both his children gave him cynical expressions, "I wanna hear about this Yuri dude. You cracked him – how?"

Nyx cringed as she leant against the wall, arms crossed and eyes trained on a broken fingernail, "Was no biggie. He wanted Reeco in the can as much as we did."

"That it?" Brac's eyes flicked up from the ground to pin his sister sharply, and Nyx's eyes darted from side to side dubiously.

"What, you want the word-for-word? Cuz that's gonna take freaking ages."

"Natasha!"

The call ringing to her right caused Nyx's eyes to close while she inhaled sharply in annoyance.

_Great._

Alec and Brac were casting grim looks at Yuri as he strode to Nyx's side, sparing the two a quick nod (which denoted his understandable discomfort at their presence) before addressing Nyx.

"Just wanted to congratulate you. This can't possibly be as great a triumph for you as it is for me, but nevertheless…"

"No problem." Nyx smiled rigidly before extending her hand to him, "Well, we'll be off."

"Well hold up, I mean," Alec stepped forward, Brac by his side as they both ignored the glare Nyx shot them, "you just threw a huge one our way, man. Let's at least, I dunno, exchange handshakes or somethin'."

Yuri's responsive smile was far from genuine, "Generous offer but I'll have to decline. No offense, of course – it's just that this was a favor to your daughter. She's the only reason I entered negotiations in the first place."

"Oh _really_?" Brac raised his eyebrows as the corners of his lips turned upwards to reveal gritted teeth, "I had no idea you and Nyx were on such _intimate_ terms."

"We just know each other from work." Nyx waved the issue away hastily before she grabbed Yuri's hand and shook it briskly, "Well, thanks for all the help, Yuri. We gotta hit the road."

"You know I was thinking, will you be in town on Saturday? Because I'm throwing this monstrous Christmas bash and it's…"

"No can do." Nyx responded as she steered the man in the direction of the lobby's stairwell, fully aware of the heat beginning to flare up in her cheeks, "Take care now, gotta go, _bye_!"

With that, Nyx turned sharply on her heels and strutted towards the exit, "Coming?" She demanded as she passed Alec and Brac, both of whom were wearing expressions of revulsion with a topping of antagonism.

"Dude that's just so _wrong_." Brac shook his head at his sister's retreating form.

"Yeah well," Alec scrapped a hand across his face as though hoping he could erase the concept from his mind, "I got a shotgun and a shovel in the backyard and I'm pretty sure no-one'll notice for the first few months."

Brac snorted, "Yeah, except your daughter."

Alec's expression blanked as he stared at Brac for a moment before smacking him soundly upside the head and moving towards the front door.

Brac grinned, rubbing the sore spot on his scalp as he headed after his father.

* * *

"I'm never letting you near a stove again."

"Oh come on, it's not so bad!"

"Max, yes – it _is_ that bad."

"So it's a little stringy – what's the deal?"

"The deal? It's _meringue_ pie, it's not supposed to be anywhere in the same _ZIP code_ as _stringy_!"

Max scowled at her mate from her seat opposite him, glad for once that table full of food presented sufficient excuse for her to pass up smacking him…among other reasons.

"In case you haven't noticed? I'm virtually a one-handed _invalid_ at the moment, so excuse me if I couldn't cater to your _unrealistic_ culinary expectations!"

Alec's eyebrows hit the roof as he tossed down his fork and leant forward, "Tell me, Max, just tell me _how_ it's possible to screw up something as simple as a _pre-made_ meringue mix?"

"Oh please!" Max rolled her eyes.

"No, it's _way_ too simple to jinx. I mean which part of 'just add water'…"

"Yeah okay, SILENCE IN THE COURT!" Nyx hollered, slamming her fist down on the table and ignoring the simmering frowns her parents sent her way.

"Much as I'm glad you two are back to your warm and fuzzy dialouging," The young transgenic adjusted her crepe-paper crown which had originated from the torn Christmas cracker she had pulled with Brac, "I for one wanna open my presents. And if we're not eating breakfast on account of its _stringy texture_," She raised her eyebrows and her tone in Alec's direction, "then let's just go and tear at some wrapping paper, people!"

"God, she does this…you do this _every_ year!" Brac protested as Nyx stood up and pushed away from the table with a jubilant smile, "I mean we don't even get a chance to be spontaneous – it's like celebrating Christmas with a Who!"

"Yeah save it." Nyx held up a hand in response as she strode towards the large evergreen fern in the corner of the McDowell living room, "Gather round, all!"

"Am I the only one who feels this way?" Brac turned back to the table with all the airs of injured morals, only to see Max and Alec engaged in filthy hand-gesture jab and counter-jab. Joshua merely watched the domestic warfare unfold with heaving gasp of laughter – they really had to stop letting Dog-Boy OD on eggnog.

"Guys!" Nyx snapped loudly, causing Max to glance up from where she had throwing a particularly rude geture in the direction of a cackling Alec.

"Yeah! Presents! We got it, girlie, so take a chill pill." Max began pushing out of her chair, and before she'd even had a chance to wince slightly at a jolt to her shoulder, Joshua was supporting her elbows.

"You okay, Lil' Fella?"

"Yeah it's just this shoulder. It's a pain in the ass." Max attempted to wave him away as she straightened, and Joshua (who was more then just a little smashed) stumbled and nearly sent them both crashing to the floor, much to Alec's consternation.

"Don't you mean in the _shoulder blade_?" The X5 quipped, at Max's side in an instant as he weasled her away from Joshua, "Don't worry, dude, I got it."

"Okay." Joshua was all smiles and nods as he hastened to join Nyx (and a very grudging Brac) at the foot of the brightly-decorated Christmas tree which was umbrella to a selection of suspicious-looking packages.

"Sometimes I wonder how it's physically possible for Josh to get so smashed on such a tiny amount of booze with his body mass." Alec muttered in Max's ear as they watched the canine nomalie plonk himself down on the sofa with unsteady legs.

"Same way it's possible to screw up meringue mix, Alec." Max responded with a wry smile hidden beneath her hair as he rolled his eyes at her, "Shit happens."

"Yeah well not today it doesn't." His arm snaked around Max's slim waist and they both subconsciously became aware that their son was the focus of both of their unified gaze.

"You think he's okay?" Max whispered, eyes trained on Brac as he argued with his sister over global Christmas traditions and their enactment.

Alec shrugged, "I think he wants to be." He glanced down at Max briefly, "Pretty sure he'd like _us_ to think he was, anyway."

"Yeah well what's new?" Max sighed, her eyes growing slightly morose as they rested on her son. Alec nudged her ever so slightly.

"Tell you what," He eyed her conspiratorially, "if it makes you feel better, I'll get him piss drunk and make him spill it all."

Max grimaced as she crossed her arms and raised an eyebrow, "And have to toss out the couch cuz it's covered in _puke_ again? I'll pass?"

"Hey well at least he didn't ruin your favourite shirt." Alec grumbled at the rejection of his tried-and-proven formula.

"Tears don't stain." Max reminded her boy coolly as she began sauntering towards the living room area.

"Yeah well neither does puke if you use a little _elbow_ grease." Alec muttered, then ducked instinctively, much to Max's amusement as she raised an eyebrow at him.

"Wasn't gonna smack you." She grinned at his obvious discomfort as he straightened up and cast her a mordant glower.

"You never know."

"Guys!" Nyx's hissed demand was followed by her ugg boot slamming itself onto the wood of the floor, "Can we just open the freaking presents already?"

"Aw, what's the matter, Nyxie, still waitin' for that Bratz Doll?" Brac crooned as he positioned himself cross-legged on the floor and grinned breezily up at his sister.

"Alright people," Max less-then-subtly overtook proceedings before Nyx gave herself (and her subjects) a hernia, "Youngest to oldest, one present each, full-circle. Let's do this." She and Alec took up camp on the floor as the latter tugged Nyx down with him.

"It's always youngest to oldest, every year!" Brac's flagrant whine caused Alec to roll his eyes at his mate, who patted his knee sympathetically before rolling her own eyes at Brac.

"Would you just grow up?' Nyx glared at her brother as she reached under the tree and laid hands on a large parcel box with glimmering gold wrapping paper, "This one looks exciting!"

"Who's it from?" Joshua asked eagerly from where he had been warding off sleep on the couch.

"Uh…" Nyx squinted at the tag, "Dad."

"Uh oh." Brac scooted several feet away from Nxy only to collide with Alec and get grabbed into a headlock.

"And what is that supposed to mean, little man?"

"This 'little man' is gonna hand you your _ass_ if you _dare_ noogie me…ow!" Brac yelped indignantly as Alec proceeded to knuckle his scalp, "Mom! Dad's attacking me for no good reason!"

Max, for her part, was completely overwhelmed by the sudden display of immaturity from her twenty year-old son. It was like he'd reverted to his ten year year-old self all over again, and she was struggling to comprehend the drastic shift in personality – and why, for some reason, Alec seemed to be encouraging it (although that part didn't elude her quite as much – both boys were hopeless infants at heart).

Max scooted carefully closer to Nyx to prevent herself getting caught in the crossfire as Alec and Brac began a full-on wrestle on the living room floor, complete with farcical ringmaster commentary from Alec and highly exaggerated sumo roars from Brac.

"Ugh! You guys!" Nyx was protesting before turning to her mother for support, "Mom? Back me up here!"

At this point Joshua committed the dangerous act of laughing at Nyx's disgruntled expression. She in turn launched into a lecturing spiel which was totally lost on the semi-intoxicated transgenic, adding, in her own oblivious way, to the anarchy of the moment.

Max's face became a picture of confusion as she turned around just in time to catch sight of Alec, who had managed to pin a squirming Brac underneath him, suddenly pausing and whispering something in his son's ear.

Brac went completely still and his eyes, trained as they were on the carpet, clouded over with emotion for a brief moment. He swallowed once, nodded, and muttered something inaudible.

Then Brac's gameface was back in full swing, and the wrestle was unceremoniously squelched by Nyx hauling Alec off her brother and threatening to separate the pair.

Max got it now. Well, sort of. She'd never completely understand the synergy with which Alec and Brac seemed to operate, but she'd managed to crack a fair bit of their coding after twenty years or so.

And if there was one thing Max knew about her boys, it was that they simply didn't _do_ anguish. Well – not in front of anybody but each other, or occasionally Max depending on the circumstances. It just wasn't in their user manual.

"Uh earth to Maxie?"

Max startled out of her reverie at the sight of Alec's raised eyebrows and the slim black box he was extending to her.

She smiled at the offering and searched for a nametag, pausing to frown once she saw the initials.

"G.B.M.C?" Max looked at Alec with a squint of confusion, and he offered her a magnanimous smirk.

"Golden Boy Monty Cora."

"S'real stealthy, Alec." She tore off the red ribbon with a roll of her eyes, flipping open the box and pausing to smile at the well-worn baseball nestled in a cushion of velvet.

"No way." Max glanced at Alec, who was now beaming from ear to ear as she picked up the baseball and inspected it closer, "Oh my god, it is!"

"Still think Sammy Sosa's 756 Home Run ball is worth way more then what I owe you?" Alec flashed Max a benign grin and he wrapped an arm around her and leant closer to whisper in her ear, "Cuz I don't agree."

Max felt her face flush and she forced out a laugh to smother the lump in her throat, tossing the baseball at Alec.

"I feel like I'm missing something very significant." Brac cast a look at Nyx, who cleared her throat loudly in response.

"Okay, moving swiftly onward, people. It's my turn again!" She shoved Brac's shoulders aside and dove at a large present under the tree with her name on it.

"In the words of her Majesty," Brac glared at his parents as he rubbed his shoulder and watched Nyx call for complete silence as she unwrapped her present, "some things never change."

"Yeah." Max smiled softly as she tossed the baseball from hand to hand and rested her head in the dip of Alec's shoulder, "And thank God that some things do."

_- FIN -_


End file.
